When the Odds are Against You
by Satipheen
Summary: A century of Hunger Games requires something special.StephanieTrindlesworth just wants to survive,she never expected to find love heading for her death.But not all love is wanted.2 men fight to save the woman they love but in the end will she be allowed to be with the one she truly loves-in the Capitol however happy endings are rare Haymitch/OC/Seneca-read inside for explanation AU
1. One More Year Too Late

******READ THIS if you pl********eas********e - a littl********e **clarification. I have basically taken characters from the brilliant Hunger Games and changed a few facts about them, added in my own OC's (obvs), disregarded the books in general - really I'm using the hunger games but with my own characters and a few from Suzanne Collins books. - AU Also I have completed disregarded time; I have fast forwarded it for some characters and re-winded it for others so...if you're still interested please read on and review :)

**Chapter One: One more year too late**

The wind was particularly strong that day she noted. Walking silently her long hair streamed out behind her tugged by the wind and fighting against the constraint the worn piece of string offered. She had arrived late and had little time to ready herself for the Reaping. Hurriedly she scrubbed herself clean with a bucket of cold water and a cloth, her hands coated in oil and grime from the factory. It was her mother's birthday in a few days and when no one was looking she had been hiding away bits of left-over metal and soldering it together with a hot iron in an attempt to make her a new hair pin. She was not so advanced in the factory to work with the more technical matters. It was for this reason that she had arrived home late; her mother had been waiting at the door for her; face tight and drawn.

"Where have you been Stephanie?"

"Sorry"

"Hurry and get ready. You haven't any time for anything fancy"

"You can go on. I promise I'll follow straight after"

Her mother gave a brisk nod as Stephanie leapt up the last of the few steps to their porch. Her mother gave her a strange look and Stephanie paused, eyebrow arched questioningly. Her mother raised a calloused hand to her daughter's cheek and smiled fondly. "How grown up you are." Stephanie gave a small smile, a faint dusting of pink colouring her cheeks. "But you need to clean all that oil of you, now go on" her mother reprimanded kindly as she watched her daughter enter the house with sad eyes. 'Just one more year' her mother thought fiercely.

In the house she scrubbed fiercely at her skin until it was almost raw. Throwing on the black skirt that brushed her knees and the greying blouse hastily she had rushed out the door. And now she had joined the steady flow of people heading towards the town hall square. After she had been officially registered she went to stand in the designated area waiting. Her eyes sought that of her family and she saw her mother, father and older brother and sister standing behind the line; waiting. Her sister gave her a tight smile, her hand resting on her bulging belly; she was due in the next few weeks. Stephanie returned her smile back as her sister's husband appeared behind her sister a struggling child with a mop of fair hair in his arms. Stephanie felt a bitter taste in her mouth at the thought that one day the sweet little girl in his arms would stand where she was and even her unborn niece or nephew.

The escort for District 3 appeared on the stage smiling too brightly and gaudily clothed. She tottered dangerously on ridiculously high shoes with eyes a little too green to be natural. Her dusky skin was decorated with gold and purple swirls and a lilac wig shaped like an ice cream cone balanced precariously on her head. Her voice boomed out across the silently gathered crowd. Stephanie didn't bother to pay attention; she forced a calm façade for her family who were gathered behind the corded off area. She was the last one of the family to be safe so to speak. Her elder sister was 24 and her brother 26. It was only her, the baby of the family. She was 18; it would be her last year. She focused on the faces of those around her all of them waiting. Waiting.

A manicured hand dove into the crystal globe of names with exaggerated dramatics. She knew it was a cliché but the silence was deafening. There was the collected holding of breath among them all as painted nails pried open the piece of paper that would seal the fate of another. She looked up and a single magpie flew overhead. 'One for sorrow' she thought to herself. And then it was as if all the air had been knocked out of her, "Stephanie Trindlesworth."

**Short but next chapters will be longer ...review!**


	2. Goodbye Goldie

**Chapter Two: Goodbye Goldie**

Her chest had constricted the moment she heard her name called out; sounding unusually formal with the accentuated vowels of a Capitol twang. She heard a cry sound behind her and recognised it as her sister's, but she wouldn't allow herself to look back. Already the girls standing immediately around her had backed away to isolate her, sharing looks of pity and guilty relief. It was a universal action that plagued all districts to distance oneself from the designated tribute as soon as they had been identified. What for? She barely knew herself. It wasn't as if they would be taken with them. But somehow it was a human instinct; as soon as you were singled out it was you and us. Whether they meant to or not they had already sealed you off. Alone. She pressed her lips tightly together in a thin white line and made her way to through the crowd horizontally to the main walkway leading to the stage on shaky legs.

She was brought onto the stage to the gleeful praise of the escort as she shook her hand daintily. A round of applause was offered up and during it she allowed herself to seek out her family. Her sister was gone and so were her husband and little fair Eldi. She hoped that her sister was fine. Her mother, father and brother remained standing with grim faces. A neighbour of theirs was standing with her mother, an arm secured around her shoulders. Even from her she could recognise how her mother was struggling to hold it together. Her brother and father's faces were tense. She could recognise the emotion on their faces. She had seen it on countless faces before. The expression of helplessness.

The applause died off. Looking at the crowd of faces, hollow cheeks and sunken eyes, one would never guess they could produce such a positively associated sound as applause. She felt awkward standing there staring down into the faces of those she had grown up with. It would probably be the last time she ever seen them she thought to herself. A boy's name was called. "Frenkin Handalriss." She recognised it vaguely and turned her head to see him. A boy at least two heads smaller than her with a pair of glasses that had been handed down to him stepped out. She had seen him teaching Eldi and a few other children some tricks with a pebble. She sighed deeply. He was twelve. She watched him approach the stage slowly with pity in her eyes. She only hoped she wouldn't have to be the one to kill him. A sudden thought crossed her mind. How do they see me? She was just above average height and was lean by force rather than choice. I don't exactly look too strong either she thought to herself. And when the time came to shake hands as she towered above him she took his sweaty palm and gave it a tender and reassuring squeeze.

Rushed into the building by Peacekeepers they were separated into two different rooms. She had managed to quell the panic bubbling up inside her threatening to choke her. She was expecting her family through the door any moment and she didn't want them to find her a mess. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably though and her legs felt weak beneath her. How many years had she envisioned this scenario in her nightmares and yet all the words of advice passed down over the years were now garbled and she couldn't understand them. She tried to force herself to keep calm. She was Stephanie Trindlesworth, great great granddaughter of the 16th Hunger Games Victor.

Just then as she expected her family burst into the room. She was immediately pulled into a crushing embrace by her sister albeit a little awkwardly because of her protruding bump. Stephanie could feel the hot tears against her cheek and she felt like crying herself but she didn't. She pulled away from her holding her firmly by the shoulders gave a bright smile and said, "Come on Weisna. I'll be back in time to meet the little one you can bet on it." Her older sister Weisna gave a shaky laugh swiping at the tears apologetically before her husband appeared at her side with little Eldi in his arms. The child stretched her thin arms outwards and Stephanie gladly accepted the little one into her arms. Huge blue eyes stared back at her innocently. "Goldie is goin' way" the little voice held a note of irritation as the child pouted stubbornly, annoyed that its favourite auntie was leaving her. "Yes Goldie has to go away" she replied. The nickname Goldie was coined by the child herself, unable to pronounce her name Stephanie she had christened her Goldie due to her unusual colour of eyes which were in all respects best described as golden. Like her great great grandfather who was Victor she had been told many times. 'Well here's hoping that eye colour is not the only thing I take after him' she thought to herself.

She was pulled out of her musing by the insistent child in her arms, "Is Goldie coming back soon?" she asked. Around the room a tense air settled choking everyone's throat as the child stared oblivious up at her waiting patiently for its answer. It was Dar, Weisna's husband that broke the silence, "Of course she is," he said confidently and with that the child was satisfied with her father's words and Stephanie handed her back to him with a grateful smile to which he nodded in understanding. Next her father embraced her tightly with his one arm, having lost his left arm in a factory accident. "Trindlesworth Victor blood runs in your veins Stephanie. You can do this," he whispered fiercely to her and she nodded wanting to believe with all her heart in his words. Her brother held her tightly for a few moments before releasing her and she seen the anger reflected in his eyes as his jaw was set rigidly. She smiled sadly at him, "Look after them for me," she said. He snorted rather childishly at her before ruffling her brunette hair, "Yeah right squirt, you'll be picking up the extra chores that I had to do when you get back!" he said. Lastly it was her mother who held her fiercely to her before stepping back to look at her. "My beautiful daughter…come back to us," her voice cracked a little and Stephanie could only give an abrupt nod not able to trust her own voice.

Stepping onto a train a short time later trailed by a red-eyed and nosed Frenkin. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor boy as he sniffed pitifully curling up in one of the chairs in the carriage. The few gathered to see them off including the Mayor solemnly waved them off. A mutual look of understanding passed between them; they never expected to see one another again. The carriage was impressive and she might have took the time to fawn over it and the numerous plates of edibles arranged for them but for the gut-wrenching and nauseating feeling that claimed her as the train pulled silently away from the station. She managed to remain standing for a full minute and a half before her knees gave way and she collided with the steel floor of the train and unconsciousness sunk its claws into her dragging her down.


	3. Sleeping Beauty

**Cannot believe I have forgot to do this: Disclaimer; I obviously don't own the brilliant Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins though I have kinda chopped them up a bit for my own amusement...:3**

**Chapter Three: Sleeping Beauty**

She awoke with a blinding headache and a feeling of trepidation gnawing at her as she sensed the presence of another person in the room. When she 'sensed' someone it was incredibly hard to miss the ruckus that was being made by said person. She cringed as the sound of another thing smashing made her head pound even louder. No sooner had the pain subsided once more to a dull throb than another thing smashed. She sat up abruptly. Bad idea. The room swam uncertainly about her for a few minutes and she almost felt like retching but was saved by the fact that her stomach was painfully empty. The room once more came into focus just in time for her to witness the glass bottle as it smashed into a hundred different shards and littered the royal blue velvet carpet with its painful gleaming shower.

"Hey! YOU!" she yelled at the hunched over figure at the bottom of the bed.

Said figure stood and turned to face her, swaying uncertainly on bare feet as he did so. "You … (hiccup) are awake"

She glared at him. "Is this how you normally wake people, ransacking the place" she said angrily crossing her arms.

"What did you want? True love's first kiss?" he bit back.

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

"I was availing…of the services that …your mi-mini-bar had to offer"

She looked at him perplexed.

He looked at her as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "What did you do with the booze sweetheart?"

"That is it!" she exclaimed angrily whipping the sheets back and practically leaping out of bed. Another bad idea. The blue carpet beneath her feet suddenly became a raging sea and she swayed uncertainly.

"You drank it!" he suddenly accused.

"I did not! I have never drank alcohol in my life and looking at you I don't think I ever will," she shouted back. "Now number one I'm not your sweetheart in fact I am no one's sweetheart…"

Here he interrupted her. "I can see why"

"Scrap that! OUT!" she screamed at him.

"Jeez sweetheart calm down…" he replied putting up his hands defensively.

"Well… _sweetheart_ either remove yourself from this room or I will" she said, teeth grinding together in annoyance.

Surveying her flushed cheeks and clenched fists once more he rolled his eyes and made his way to the door with uncertain steps. "I'll tell them…Sleeping Beauty isn't ready to get up yet" and then he slipped from the room.

She barely restrained herself from running out the door and throttling him. Now that the source of her annoyance was gone she readily collapsed back onto the soft bed again enjoying the silence. But all too soon the reason why she was on this train and where she was heading pushed its way to the forefront of her mind. She hugged her knees to her chest and for the first time noticed that she someone had changed her out of her clothes and into some flimsy silk nightgown. Her cheeks flamed as she thought of how she had stood before that man without a single ouch of shame. Groaning inwardly she had barely enough time to sit up and begin to assess her surroundings before the door flew open. Immediately she picked up the nearest thing to her; which happened to be the alarm clock, ready to fling it at him and she was just able to still her arm in time as the purple and gold swirls of the District 3's escort appeared before her.

"Pet oh…pet are you feeling better" the words rushed out between mauve and gold lips.

"Y..yes" she replied uncertainly.

"Oh pet you give us quite a fright you know when you collapsed like that. My poor heart you do not know how it jumped! You scared dear little Isa here to palpitations. But now you are fine. It wouldn't do to have a tribute dying before you even got to the Capitol" here she gave a little high-pitched laugh and Stephanie merely grimaced, repulsed by her words. "But now that you are well again you can get changed and come and eat something. I'm sure you're hungry. Poor pet I don't think you have the balance right" she tssked under her tongue.

"Balance?" Stephanie inquired as the woman went to the built in wardrobe and begin to rummage through it, squealing in delight when she found what she was looking for.

"Yes balance dear. You see you _are_ skinny pet, but you don't want to be so skinny that it is distasteful," she said, pressing something that Stephanie could only describe as a lot of bright ruffles up against her. She gave a bitter smile. 'As if I have a choice in the matter' she thought to herself, thinking of how her mother and father would be forced to on many occasions go without to feed them.

"Now that's perfect pet! Just put it on and you will look like a complete doll. We are just down the hall" she said and clapping her hands giddily she literally skipped from the room.

Stephanie stared at the object in her hands and with not a second thought discarded it on the floor with the glass shards. She went over to the wardrobe but found nothing but bright colours and pieces of fabric that she couldn't even begin to fathom how to wear. However at the bottom of the wardrobe she found something that she could wear. It was a pair of black satin trousers, they seemed to be boys but she didn't care as she pulled them on securing some intricate clasp that held them up. They clung tightly to her and the clasp dug uncomfortably into her skin but she ignored it and the pink frilly thing that she pulled out next. She found an oversized green silk shirt studded with what she considered fake gems and slipped it on with ease. She rolled up her sleeves and then secured the loose fabric with the string that had previously held up her hair behind her back. Her hair now fell in brunette cascades down her back which she kept pushing back in annoyance as she searched for some shoes. She wasn't as lucky in this department though and frowning she picked out the 'best' of the lot in her opinion. The boots came about half way up her shins and were black and made of soft leather and laced up at the front. It was the four inch heel that she was staring at dubiously that concerned her.

Inching her way down the corridor, supporting herself on the walls she wondered what it was the Capitol people saw in heels. She liked the extra height that she gained but she wouldn't force herself to balance on dangerous and painful stilts to do so. She heard voices coming from down the hall and as she reached the door it opened automatically startling her for a moment. She inched her way into the carriage it was the same one that she had collapsed in. There were people sitting in the chairs a few feet away from her. The seats were enormous and concave suspended from the ceiling. She was about to make her way over but suddenly Frenkin appeared from seemingly nowhere. He too was in fresh clothes and his face was covered in something greasy. Also he appeared apparently overjoyed to see her. She was perplexed by this. 'We may have to kill each other and he is welcoming me back like a long lost sister' she thought uneasily.

Gaining a better grasp on heels she walked slowly over to where the people were seated only able to see the occupant of the chair facing her. Purple and gold lips were pulled down in a frown while eyes greener than the shirt she was wearing assessed her distastefully. She gave an exasperated sigh, "We have so got to work on your sense of style missy" she reprimanded sternly while Stephanie fought the smile that threatened. "But anyways here is your mentor Haymitch Abernathy" as she said the words Isa's gaze became dreamy and she had a small smile. Stephanie turned on her heels eager to meet him but her face quickly drained of colour and she found herself lost for words and not in a good way. Lounging languidly in his seat with a huge smirk on his face and a bottle of vodka in the other…"Hello Sleeping Beauty."

**Review? :D **


	4. A 100 year Special

******Disclaimer: Yeah I don't own a thing**

**In response to HGH's q's ; I hope this chapter sheds some light on them. **

**Plus after some consideration I have decided that Haymitch won the 90th Hunger Games at the age of 16 making him in this fanfic currently 26. Kinda a fast forward and a re-wind rolled into one - confused? Yeah I don't really get it myself but just go with it :D**

**Chapter Four: A 100 year Special**

His smirk only widened as she continued to stare in silent horror. Finally she managed to regain her voice.

"You?!" she raged, even Isa backed up a little in her chair.

"Please… don't get too excited," he said before taking another swig from the bottle.

"I'm going to kill you" and with that she lunged for him, however despite his drunken state he was still able to move remarkably quickly and her once well directed kick managed only to kick the chair before she was apprehended by a guard who had been standing unseen in the corner of the carriage.

The chair swung back and forth as he stared at her with a bored expression. "Darling I think you might be under the wrong impression here. First you try to die when you get on the train and now trying to kill people – you are meant to do those things _in_ the arena. Got it sweetheart?"

She stared darkly back at him. "Can I kindly be released?" she said in a measured tone, with as much dignity as she could muster with her hands secured behind her back and being held up by the guard's arm.

Haymitch looked at her as if he was considering it for a few moments before signalling the guard to let her go.

She stood up straight and waited silently. Haymitch got to his feet leisurely and set the bottle down on the adjacent table before turning to her. "Now sweetheart we need to work on you big ti…" but he never got to finish before with excellent marksmanship her boot connected with her target this time and Haymitch crumpled to the floor before her cursing wildly and clutching his crotch.

"Got it sweetheart" she replied sarcastically before storming out of the carriage to the distressed cries of Isa and past a shell shocked Frenkin, finding herself suddenly very capable of walking in heels.

Back in the previous room she fumed silently, creating a permanent groove in the carpet as she marched to and fro the glass crunching beneath her boots. However after a while her feet felt like they were on fire from all the walking in heels she had done and she collapsed defeated onto the bed scolding herself over and over again. 'How could I be so impulsive? He is my mentor! He is going to be the one responsible for trying to keep me alive - how was dealing him a boot to his crown jewels meant to help anything!' Utterly trounced she did the only thing she could think of that could possibly give her relief even if it was merely illusion. Lying her head down on the softest pillows she had ever felt she shut her eyes to the world. 'Things would have been different if he had not decided to trash the room. Idiot' she raged inwardly and then an even quieter voice surfaced; 'Things would have been very different if my name had never been chosen at all.' Pushing thoughts like that to the back of her mind she whispered to herself angrily, "No point dwelling on what could have been. Deal with what is."

Her eyes opened heavily to the quiet yet insistent knocking at the door. Expecting it to be Isa or even worse Haymitch though she couldn't really imagine him doing anything quietly she remained silent. However after a moment she heard the timid voice of Frenkin drift through the door. "Stephanie…erm, Stephanie…" She paused for a moment trying to think if this was wise but sighing she got up and opened the door. She never really considered what she was about to do before she did it.

"Oh!" he exclaimed as his face rapidly flushed a deep red.

She subconsciously glanced down making sure no one had changed her while she slept. But no all was more or less the same in that department. "Yes?" she prompted him when he had stood silently staring at his feet for a few moments. Patience was something she was also in dire need of.

"We have to go down and get food" he said looking up at her with wide eyes. For a moment an image of Eldi flashed before her with painful clarity and all she wanted to do was to pull Frenkin close and protect him. However she was brought back to reality though – food! That was another thing that idiot mentor of her had made her miss out on she thought angrily to herself.

The door once more automatically opened to admit them into the carriage. Her third visit and hopefully a longer and more productive one this time she thought.

However as soon as she stepped into the carriage her eyes landed on Haymitch, sprawled across a rather angular and uncomfortable looking sofa that had seemed to materialise out of nowhere since last she had been here. Surely they don't keep spare furniture on the train! She thought absent-mindedly. However she was pulled back out of her reverie by the daggers that Haymitch was shooting her way.

"Hey Frenkin pass me over that bottle" Haymitch called, however his narrowed grey gaze never left hers.

She folded her arms defiantly noting that there were now two guards in the carriage. She was lucky enough to be quick enough in escaping back to her room last time. She had no doubt that if she were to make any questionable moves she would find herself pinned rather quickly.

Frenkin struggled to reach the bottle on the top shelf and when she turned she noticed that it was another bottle of alcohol.

"Why can't you get it yourself?" she asked sharply.

"I am currently incapacitated due to someone's rather rude and uncalled for behaviour" he said flatly.

"I wouldn't say completely uncalled for" she replied, a dark eyebrow arched.

He never got to retort however because just then Isa came tottering back into the carriage with a silk cloth bulging with something which she proceeded to hand to Haymitch who then proceeded to press it with a painful hiss to where her boot had collided with earlier.

He glared up at her "What?" he growled.

She tried her hardest to bite back the smile but the corners of her mouth were twitching furiously with the effort. And so she walked briskly over to lift the bottle down for Frenkin.

Opened bottle in hand Haymitch swigged at it generously all the while letting his gaze bore into her back as she pretended to be interested in whatever was outside namely wilderness. The brooding silence really put a dampener on the mood in the carriage however completely oblivious to it Isa babbled on nonsensically.

"Now Stephanie I simply must tell you that I will not tolerate such behaviour. It is inexcusable and has upset me greatly," here Isa paused for dramatic effect placing a clawed (there was honestly no other way to describe it Stephanie justified, the 'nails' were almost three inches) hand over her heart taking deep and measured breaths. Stephanie stared at her quizzically. Haymitch was still glaring at her.

"But anyways on to the main topics that. We. Need. To. Discuss!" she punctuated her last few words, ushering them over to sit down on the sofa perpendicular to the one Haymitch sat sulking on.

When they were all seated Isa beamed at each of them in return. "Now…" she began but she never got to continue for Stephanie interrupted her.

"Stop glaring at me!"

"They say never to keep your eyes of a dangerous animal for that's when it will pounce" he retorted.

She swallowed the remark that she had in her throat with much difficulty, choosing instead to ignore him and turned to Isa who sat frozen like a statue.

Isa threw a displeased glance at Stephanie. "Very rude" she scolded wagging one of her painted claws at Stephanie. However she continued anyway.

"Well Frenkin Handalriss and Stephanie Trindlesworth you are two very lucky people. For you two will be part of the 100th Hunger Games!" here Isa broke into spontaneous applause. She proceeded undeterred by her audience's evident lack of enthusiasm.

"Being as we are celebrating a whole wondrous century of Hunger Games these will be very special games that you will have the privilege to participate in."

Stephanie swallowed hard and out of the corner of her eye she saw the beads of sweat begin to formalise on Frenkin's forehead. 'Special' the word was coated in venom disguised as sweet. For them it spelt more danger and pain but for Isa and her kind it simply meant a more entertaining Hunger Games.

Stephanie wouldn't allow herself to dwell on what these 'special' games might entail. She wouldn't frighten herself with the horrors that her imagination could no doubt conjure up, no – that was the Gamemaker's job and they had proven themselves more than capable of striking fear into the most steeliest of tributes.

"Now…" suddenly a bright light flashed before Stephanie and she blinked rapidly in response. When her vision returned she looked to find Isa concentrating intently on a small rectangular object in her hand, sleek and almost flat. She recognised it and then realised that they made them in the factories back at District 3.

"What did you do?" she inquired curiously.

"Oh I just snapped a few quick pictures and sent them onto Ficen and her styling team. Just so they can be prepared." Isa replied lining the object up to 'snap a picture' of Frenkin.

Once that was done Isa clapped her hands together and suddenly food was whisked in before them. Stephanie's mouth literally dropped open and she blushed a little as her stomach rumbled approvingly.

"Well eat what you want," Isa said and then more confidentially said to Stephanie with a pointed wink "balance."

Stephanie reached for a something that seemed to resemble a miniature pie that was golden and crisp and had little hot tendrils of steam rising from it but just as she was about to claim it – it was swiped from under her grasp.

She snapped her gaze up just in time to catch Haymitch as he wolfed the last of it down with uncanny speed. She simply glared at him.

"Animal" she mumbled under her breath before swiping another of the miniature pies and sinking her teeth into it victoriously. He merely smirked back at her.

**Longest chapter I think :? **

**But anyways your thoughts? **


	5. Playthings

******Disclaimer: Don't own the Games**

**I think this is a pretty uneventful chapter but I decided that I needed to do some explaining **

**Chapter Five: Playthings**

Isa had talked on for over half an hour about nothing particularly notable. She had an amazing ability to revert the conversation back to her no matter what they were talking about. Stephanie merely listened for now content as she greedily devoured mouthful after mouthful of savoury and sweet foods.

Finally Isa had ceased talking, well more in particular she had ceased talking to them and was now babbling ecstatically into the rectangular object much to Stephanie's confusion. She may have helped make the thing but she sure in hell didn't know the slightest thing about it. Isa got up and after politely excusing herself practically ran from the carriage. Stephanie stared after her utterly perplexed until…

"Well Miss Stephanie Trindlesworth?" Haymitch made sure to pronounce every syllable of her name with deliberate slowness.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "What?"

"Oh nothing. Just wondering sweetheart if you could give us a heads up the next time you decide to blow a fuse" he said smiling sweetly at her.

She almost bit her tongue off in restraining herself from replying and instead smiled sweetly in return repeating the words 'He's my mentor. I need him' over and over again in her head like a mantra. However Haymitch had a fair idea of what was going on; after all he had now been mentoring tributes for a decade now.

"If it wouldn't be any trouble could you get me a glass with some ice sweetheart?" he asked as he reclined on the sofa. She grinded her teeth together.

"I thought you had enough ice" she replied with a smirk motioning discreetly to the bulging silk handkerchief. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Get me a glass."

"Fine."

She placed the glass on the table in front of him harshly and sat down beside Frenkin once more. "So," she leaned forward eagerly waiting.

He eyed her suspiciously. "What?" he snapped.

"Are you going to do your job as mentor or not"

"Honey let's get one thing straight this mentoring thing ain't my choice"

"How come you're never at the Reapings?" Frenkin suddenly piped up startling them both for a moment. Haymitch turned to glare at Frenkin for a moment making the poor boy cower a little in his chair.

"Because…" he began nonchalantly.

"You were too drunk to even stand probably" she finished.

"That's a matter of opinion" he replied slowly, and if looks could kill Stephanie wouldn't make it to the arena.

"Well…are you going to give us advice or not?" she said angrily.

"You know something I don't much like you,"

"The feeling is mutual. Nothing gained - nothing lost" she said extending her hand to him as a goodwill gesture. He remained unmoving for a few moments before rolling his eyes he took her hand roughly and shook it.

"Truce?"

"Truce."

"So…" she prompted him a little sharply as he took another swig from the bottle.

"So you two will be participating in the 100th Hunger Games. Lucky you's"

"What can we expect then?"

"The Gamemakers make it so that you can't predict anything. However…"

"However…!"

"You really have no patience, do you? Fine, there are a few basic things I can teach you or advise you on that are applicable to all Games."

"What does Isa mean by 'special' Games?" Frenkin's frightened voice managed to get the sentence out without cracking.

"Well…they're making the Games more…erm professional"

"Professional?" she inquired, eyebrow arched.

"Yea in a way. You see the Games are hyped up and then the actual games are over within a fortnight. However to celebrate a century this Fourth Quarter Quell the games have been…well…extended" For the first time since she met him Haymitch's face was devoid of any sarcastic humour. His vivid grey eyes were sad as the brutal truth began to sink in.

A fortnight of hell, of not being able to trust anyone but yourself, being forced to kill people you didn't know and being hunted by those very same people. Knowing that if they wanted with a push of a button you would be dead. They made you become a murderer, changed you so that you could never go back to the way you were before. All that pain and suffering and to celebrate it they were going to make it longer.

She heard a strangled sob escape Frenkin's lips as she grinded her own teeth together. "How long?" she asked quietly.

For a moment his grey gaze locked with her trembling gold gaze and his eyes held nothing but pity. But she looked away quickly; she didn't want his pity, his pity couldn't help her.

"A month, a month and a half?" he replied.

Another gurgled sob escaped Frenkin as his oversized glasses misted over.

"Come on kid," Haymitch said kindly, patting Frenkin's knee softly. Stephanie scooted over on the sofa to him and hesitantly wrapped an arm around his shoulder. She was the baby of the family; she wasn't used to being the one having to do the comforting.

Frenkin clung to her silk green shirt until his sobs had died down and he pulled away to sit up straight. The whole time Haymitch had simply remained silent staring off into space with a sad expression on his face. When Frenkin had stopped crying he had shoved a tissue into Frenkin's hand and cleared his throat.

"So a week of training and then a month of the Games?" she asked, as she slipped her arm gently from around Frenkin's shoulders. She frowned as she suddenly felt a strange feeling of coldness creep over her without the comforting weight of Frenkin leaning against her. 'I guess we all need human contact' she thought to herself

"Not quite"

Her head snapped up to look at Haymitch, anger already colouring her cheeks red, "What do we have to do the games blindfolded?" she snapped angrily.

Frenkin gave a loud guffaw making her jump, she hadn't said it to amuse, she was raging that first of all it had been seen fit to elongate the Games and now there was something else.

"On account of the Games being lengthened the training has also been lengthened," Haymitch said.

"So two weeks training"

"No"

"Three weeks"

"Stop guessing"

"Fine, tell me then"

"I would if you let me"

Silence.

"Good. Now the time you will spend in the Capitol will be a month."

"A month!" both Frenkin and Stephanie exclaimed simultaneously.

"Doing what exactly?" Stephanie demanded, an eyebrow arched incredulously.

"It was some Gamemaker's idea. The idea is and I quote 'See the tributes as you have never seen them before! Have a chance to meet them and socialise with them before the Games!" Haymitch answered.

"Socialise! Frickin socialise. What am I meant to do enjoy a pina colada with them as they wave me off to my death! This is ridiculous!" Stephanie was standing now, almost shouting.

"It may be worked to your advantage," Haymitch said sternly.

"How?!" she shouted.

"It could give you a chance to directly obtain sponsors yourself; one of the airheads might even let something slip about the games," he replied.

She scoffed and walked over to the window, leaning on her arms against it, forcing herself to breathe calmly. 'Talk about adding insult to injury' she thought bitterly to herself.

"So for a month we have to run about jumping through hoops like some capitol trained poodle," she snapped.

"If you don't other tributes will…and they will get sponsors." Haymitch answered and then more gently added, "they want to build you up into something more. Think of it like the interview with Flickerman only extended. Insulting as it may be you are new playthings to them and they want to find out how you work, what you like, dislike, who you love etc etc. The more interesting you are the more sponsors you will get."

"I thought that they only sponsored the careers, the ones that always win," Frenkin asked innocently.

"That's precisely the point. In order for these longer games to work more tributes need to survive for longer. After the normal week of physical training you're given your score by the Gamemakers and the sponsors primarily choose their tribute based on that. So in order to achieve sponsors for the other tributes who haven't got so much in strength they are appealing to their personalities and what better way than to make you attend Capitol parties and the such to socialise with the very people that will be sponsoring you"

"They want to make us into celebrities or something of the such,"

"In short, yes. They think it will add to the dramatics of the Games,"

Stephanie clenched her jaw tightly fighting back the tears that threatened. In her tears were her anger and the knowing thought that she could do absolutely nothing to stop this …this humiliation. They were going to murder her on live television for her family to see wasn't that enough?

"Are we really nothing more than playthings to them? To be moulded and used and then thrown away when broken…"

Haymitch sighed deeply before looking up at her with a smirk though his eyes remained sorrowful.

"Welcome to the Capitol."

**Review ...it makes me ridiculously happy XD**


	6. Smiling

**Disclaimer; I do not own the Hunger Games or any characters you may recognize from it**

******AN: Haymitch won the 90th Hunger Games at the age of 16 making him in this fanfic currently 26. Kinda a fast forward and a re-wind rolled into one - confused :D**

**Chapter Six; Smiling**

The atmosphere in the carriage had become too stifling and Stephanie immediately left. She was really beginning to dislike that carriage; so far nothing good had happened in it.

She once more went into what she now considered her room, now littered in glass and clothes and frowned; it was messier every time she returned to it.

She flopped down on the bed, hugging a pillow tightly to herself, but she wouldn't find sleep this time she knew. Lying there silently she was surprised when she felt the slight dip as someone sat on the bed.

She turned sharply to be met with Frenkin's large blue eyes and she suddenly felt the sobs in her own throat. Giving in Stephanie threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

A few moments later they pulled away from one another and she looked at him sheepishly, seeing her tear tracks and red rimmed eyes reflection in his glasses.

"We should be at the Capitol soon," he said in a small voice.

Blinking a few times she looked at him in shock

"So soon?"

Frenkin gave a boyish grin, "Yea, these things go fast, huh?"

Stephanie ruffled his hair, feeling strangely maternal. She had never had to be like this at home. She was always the one being comforted by her older siblings, even when little Eldi had come along they were both treated like the babies of the family.

"I suppose we better try and straighten ourselves up," she said.

Pushing his glasses up on his nose he nodded sternly, a few bangs of hair falling into his eyes.

Sliding of the bed she went to stand beside him facing the floor length mirror on the wardrobe door.

Stephanie couldn't help but think how awkward she looked in the Capitol clothing. Their clothing was meant to accentuate the trim and tailored bodies of the Capitol not her frame with jutting hips and elbows.

She was also unnaturally pale but then so were a lot in District 3. She spent her days cooped up in the factory, hidden away from the sunshine. Her paleness wasn't the radiant glow or porcelain delicacy of the Capitol but the paleness that looked sickly and accentuated the dark circles under her eyes.

Her facial features sharpened by hunger often made her expression look dark or menacing without her trying. 'I suppose that might be a good thing' she thought as she traced one of her dark arching brows. 'Though…on the other hand hollow cheeks and sunken eyes make me look weak,' she countered.

She glanced down at Frenkin. He was the epitome of childhood innocence she decided looking at him. Small and skinny, huge blue eyes and a mop of dark blonde hair that fell over his eyes. And then of course those huge glasses that only made his small face look even smaller. He barely even looked twelve.

She noticed the expression on his sombre face, it was a look of …resignation. She swallowed thickly; that expression didn't belong on the face of a boy as young as him she thought sadly. They didn't belong here at all she thought bitterly.

"Come on," she said quietly, squeezing his shoulders tightly as her mother had done so many times with her, "let's go and see if there is any more food left."

Walking into the carriage she silently warned it to lay off this time.

The carriage appeared empty and then she heard a bang behind her. Haymitch was there with an array of bottles around him. He looked at her blankly for a moment before returning back to whatever he was doing.

She sat gingerly on the sofa, Frenkin sat opposite her and then when Haymitch had finished mixing up his drink he came and sat down beside her.

"Capitol should be coming into view soon," he said nonchalantly.

Frenkin immediately sprung from his seat, running eagerly to the window.

She looked at him sadly, even though this was the final place they would ever be, 'mingling' with preened and trimmed Capitol dolls he still was fascinated by the appeal of something new. He was still curious.

"Where's Isa?" she asked suddenly, glancing to the door of the carriage.

"Off fixing herself up no doubt," he replied, swirling the liquid around in the glass.

"Oh," she said quietly, she began to wring her hands out nervously, as her stomach flipped uneasily.

"I can see it!" Frenkin called in awe from the window, face pressed eagerly to the window.

She felt sick. Sick and dizzy. 'Oh this is just great. I feel like fainting now what will I be like in the arena,' she thought frantically.

"Hey," Haymitch called firmly upon seeing the cold sheen of sweat began to cling to her. . She ignored him; she was beyond condolence as panic began to set in.

He called her again a little more forcibly but all she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears.

She heard Frenkin's gasps of wonder as the Capitol came into form before his eyes.

"Hey!" Haymitch knelt down in front of her grabbing her roughly by the shoulders, she could smell the alcohol on his breath and yet his eyes were keen and focused. "If you have to get carried in that immediately scares sponsors off. When you get off this train you grin like crazy and put your best foot forward," he said forcibly holding her gaze for a moment.

Isa burst into the carriage in a complete new ensemble of hot pink. "Well my dolls we are here," she cried excitedly, doing a complete twirl. When she noticed Stephanie looking sickly she frowned.

"Oh dear this will never do! You must look pretty!" she whined just as the train came to a stop. Giving an exaggerated sigh she rolled her eyes and stormed noisily out of the carriage leaving behind a cloud of heavy perfume.

Haymitch got up and shrugged on a satin deep blue jacket before tugging uncomfortably at the stiff white collar.

Hesitantly she stood and looked down to find that Frenkin had bounded over to her side. She looked down at him frowning slightly but felt the tug at her heartstrings when he pushed the oversized glasses up on his freckled nose.

"Let's go," Haymitch said as he stood waiting at the door of the carriage, running a hand through his dirty fair hair to smooth it.

With a deep breath she walked over to him, trying her best to stay upright in the high heels. Isa was waiting at the end of the hall, smiling brightly out at some unforeseen audience. She couldn't see them but she could hear them.

She began to walk down the corridor. She noted absently that Frenkin was holding on to the silk of her shirt as he walked behind her, but she couldn't bring herself to look behind her at him. She could barely calm herself never mind him.

Haymitch half dragged her forward by the elbow, throwing her a stern glance when she practically drove her heels into the plush red carpet of the hall.

Isa waited for them waving out lovingly to the waiting people on the Capitol platform.

She reached the end of the hall and Isa sauntered out of the carriage and onto the platform. She couldn't look up but she could hear the deafening cheers crash over her like a wave.

Stephanie's eyes were focused on her boots as she concentrated on putting one foot ahead of the other. She could already feel the cold sweat clinging to her and her throat had gone dry. A silver step appeared before her, she descended and then with an affirmative click her feet touched smooth ground.

Frenkin was still clinging to her shirt and glancing back at him through the curtain of her hair she saw his wide eyes gazing around him.

"Look up," Haymitch's whisper ruffled her hair and steeling her jaw she forced herself to move her head.

A sea of swirling colours and wide perfect white smiles swam before her. She felt the familiar nauseating feeling take a hold of her.

She felt herself stagger back and just when she was about to fall her back hit something and a strong arm around her waist steadied her.

She regained her breath and managed a small smile.

"Thanks Haymitch," she whispered.

"Just keep smiling," he said, never releasing his hold on her.


	7. Barefoot

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

**Thanks for the reviews and follows (:**

**Chapter Seven; Barefoot**

She had barely had time to hear Haymitch's rushed words on the platform before they had been whisked away; something about preening.

The events that followed had all been a blur. The Capitol in a word was…overwhelming. Stephanie could barely distinguish the explosion of colours that was a constant whirl around her. She and Frenkin were ushered into the waiting arms of their stylist teams all the while looking like goldfish with gaping mouths and wide eyes.

Frenkin's styling team was headed by a tall man with cropped lime green hair called Alba and another three who Stephanie barely got glimpses off before she was plonked down on a cool leather recliner and two new faces swirled before her.

The woman nearest to her with skin that practically glowed and bright orange lips started to hastily unbutton Stephanie's shirt before Stephanie brushed her hands away forcibly.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Stephanie cried indignantly clutching her shirt to her protectively.

The woman beside her had wide blue eyes with impossibly long glittering lashes. She turned to her friend beside her and whispered something conspiratorially. Stephanie felt uneasy.

Suddenly another woman appeared; she was tall with narrow shoulders; her lips were a deep purple, almost black and were already pulled into a displeased frown while one perfect white eyebrow shot upwards.

"Why is she still in these clothes?" the woman demanded as she inspected Stephanie with something akin to disgust. A man flanked her who was barely taller than Stephanie and had short brown hair and neat silver nails.

"Who are you?" Stephanie demanded; she tried to sound strong and confident but her words came out as a meek plead much to her chagrin.

"I am Ficen; your stylist. This is Nina, Kas and Wint" the woman gestured to the woman with orange lips, then the one with the pale blue eyes and finally the man respectively as she spoke.

Without a moment's hesitation Stephanie dismissed the names; there was no way she was going to remember them. Instead in her head she christened Nina – Bright because of her glowing skin, Kas – Lashes because of her long eyelashes and Wint – Silver on account of his nails. She however held back on giving Ficen a nickname as she had an inkling feeling that before long she would have plenty of names for Ficen.

Ficen stood with one decorated hand on her hip and the other arm erect in the air as though she were going to examine her nails; however her violet gaze was fixed disapprovingly on Stephanie who squirmed uncomfortably.

"Take the clothes off and put the robe on. They will try and fix you up as much as humanely possible while I go and get a large drink," Ficen stated. Absent-mindedly Stephanie was fascinated by how loud Ficen's voice was in comparison to how her lips moved so minimally when she spoke.

When Ficen's words sunk in Stephanie looked up at her with a somewhat confused expression but Ficen had already lost interest in her.

"You would think after so many years I would actually get something worthwhile to work with but no! – All I get is scrawny pale kids!" and with her short rant practically reverberating off the walls Ficen stormed off.

Stephanie stared after her agape; she had no idea whether to feel insulted or thank her for styling her, however 'Bright' had once more taken to tugging at Stephanie's shirt.

After hours of what had been agony for Stephanie she was finally left in a room by herself where she had been told to wait for Ficen. The real agony had been in the unknown. She would be enjoying the feeling of hot water – a rare luxury – and the next moment it felt as though the stylists wanted to peel the very skin off her body.

Furthermore the whole time the three stylists had talked non-stop, not one word **to** her although their entire conversation seemed to be about her.

"At least her hair is long – it will give Ficen something to work with at least," Bright had said as she tugged sharply on Stephanie's hair until Stephanie could feel tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

"This is more like straw than hair!" Lashes had exclaimed.

"And so many dead-ends! How could anyone let their hair fall into such a desperate state? I think we will need to use two rinses," Silver had added distastefully.

They seemed to not even care that Stephanie could hear them and it annoyed Stephanie all the more. So she had grinned and bared all their prodding and snipping because she didn't want to give them any more excuses to complain.

Waiting in the room Stephanie massaged her tender red skin and nearly sprang off the table when Ficen burst into the room.

"Well there is a slight improvement," Ficen finally admitted begrudgingly.

Stephanie knew it would be in her best interests to be on good terms with all who could possibly help her but the word 'thanks' choked in her throat; there was no way she could demean herself enough to say it.

Ficen circled her once and then in her loud voice stated, "I have your costume ready," she snapped her fingers authoritatively and Bright rushed in with a long plastic bag concealing her outfit in it and laying it on the table went to stand beside Ficen.

Ficen looked at Stephanie once more and then with a sigh, she threw her arms up in the air, "Let's get it over with," she said in an exasperated tone.

Unzipping the bag Ficen revealed the outfit and Stephanie gulped hard.

To Stephanie it looked half finished with large chunks of material missing. Ficen looked at her work appreciatively while Bright squealed loudly offering synonymous words of praise.

The top half consisted of two broad black satin strips of material that crossed to form a halter neck of some sort. They were attached to an electric blue floor length skirt that Stephanie doubted even Ficen with her narrow body could squeeze into.

"Well come on!" Ficen said impatiently. Stephanie obediently complied and went behind a screen to slip the dress on. After the initial feeling of dizziness had passed from having her blood flow severed to her legs by the constrictive dress she began to fumble with the straps, completely confounded on how they were meant to work.

Finally much to her embarrassment and Ficen's growing impatience Stephanie admitted defeat and Bright happily helped her with them. The two straps criss-crossed across her torso covering what was necessary and then wrapped around her neck, however leaving her back and her abdomen bare. Stephanie grew wide-eyed as she realised this was how she was meant to go out on the Chariot.

"You cannot be serious! I know the outfits are meant to reflect the district but …how does being half-naked reflect my district?!" Stephanie said angrily.

Ficen stared at her, violet eyes silently screaming warning; however Stephanie was just as angry.

"Your outfit isn't finished yet" Ficen said dryly.

After Stephanie's own little outburst Ficen had proceeded to laboriously secure tiny gems that shone brightly like lights all over her exposed abdomen and back. Then two metal coils of cold silver like wires were secured around her wrists like bracelets and an even heavier one around her neck. She only hoped they didn't put one on her head.

After much tugging and painful curses Ficen deemed Stephanie's hair 'passable'. The sides had been pulled back tautly and sprayed a gleaming silver as where her lips and eyes. Her hair had been secured up with some ridiculous metal head piece with bright lights and she was convinced she had gained extra height from all the hair Ficen had piled on top of her head.

What seemed to Stephanie a lifetime later her outfit was finally finished and she now stood beside Frenkin waiting patiently to be ushered onto their Chariot.

When she had looked at Frenkin she couldn't help but smile at the similar huge metal contortion on his head that sat slightly lopsided and the dazed look in his silver rimmed eyes as he gazed about himself.

"Frenkin!" she called when she was beside him. The poor boy almost jumped out of his skin.

"Where are your glasses?" she asked as she noticed her was without them.

"They said I didn't need them. They put glasses in my eyes and I can see now," Frenkin replied and blinked a few times rapidly. Stephanie couldn't see anything but then what did it matter if he could see?

Stephanie allowed herself a quick glance about her at the other tributes that were making final preparations. She felt the familiar nausea feeling in her stomach as her eyes met the tall and strong tributes of the Careers. She glanced down quickly feeling the colour drain from her face.

Suddenly Stephanie felt a strong hand pull her arm fiercely; combined with the skyscraper silver shoes that Ficen had seen fit to make her wear Stephanie immediately lost her balance and fell forward only to be caught by said hands and held up.

She looked up to meet Haymitch's gaze as he glared at her.

"What did you do?" he said, never releasing his hold on her arms.

"What?" she shot back frowning.

"I have just received an earful from your stylist Ficen on how impossible you are. Is it really that hard to just do what you are told?" his voice had lost some of its venom as his grip on her loosened.

Stephanie looked up at him feeling her own anger dissipate. Haymitch was on her side she knew that. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. He gave a deep sigh letting go of her once she steadied herself.

"Sweetheart… you have to swallow your pride and play doll if you want to have a chance," he said to her, forcing her to meet his gaze.

She nodded after a moment, suddenly feeling very childish as she glanced about her sheepishly.

"Hey," Haymitch said gently, as he tilted her chin up to look at him, "you won't get much sponsors with a face like that," he said.

She gave a small chuckle and gave him a beaming smile. "Better," he replied.

"Well…anyway how do I look?" she said striking an impromptu pose.

He looked her up and down, "Like a giant circuit board," he replied.

She laughed even though she had no idea what it meant. Behind her Frenkin's stylist Alba had appeared and was busy making last preparations on a very nervous Frenkin.

She looked around her and her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, "What?" he asked.

"You're the only mentor here," she said.

"Yea, I'm meant to already be in my seat but someone forced me to come down here," he said with a pointed glance. She scoffed at him, "yeah right you were looking for the bar no doubt."

A Capitol woman dressed in white called out for the tributes to get on their Chariots. A cacophony of chaos started up all around as stylists rushed to make finishing touches. Stephanie gulped hard.

"Just keep smiling," she felt Haymitch's hair tickle her cheek as he whispered it in her ear so it was possible for her to hear him over the ruckus.

With a hand pressed to the small of her back Haymitch directed her over to the appropriate Chariot. However Stephanie was barely able to walk upright in the heels.

"You have to do this," Haymitch said firmly as he mistook her hesitation for nerves.

"I know, it's the stupid shoes," she growled back in annoyance.

Haymitch glanced down and received a firm kick from Stephanie when he hauled the long electric blue material up unceremoniously to her shins so he could see what she was talking about.

Frenkin was lifted on to the Chariot by a teary-eyed Alba who was gushing over how proud he was off his 'little prodigy'. All around the tributes were getting ready.

Panic coursed through Stephanie's veins. "I can't stand up in a moving Chariot in these," she rushed.

Haymitch went to his knees. "Hold that," he said shoving the blue skirt into Stephanie's hands.

Stephanie's mouth dropped open. "What are you doing?" she hissed as Haymitch began to hastily undo the straps on the shoes.

He slipped the first one of and she welcomed the balance she regained as she placed her weight on her now bare foot as Haymitch attacked the other strap.

All the tributes were on the Chariots. "Ficen will kill me for this and you came down to shout at me for her already giving off!" her words were rushed together as Haymitch got the other shoe off.

He stood up with a roguish smile and Stephanie dropped the material in her hands. "She already hates you anyway," he replied.

She swatted him with her hand and smirked. They rushed over to the Chariot and Haymitch half pushed, half lifted her onto it beside a quaking Frenkin who immediately moved closer to Stephanie.

"Looking…bright kid," Haymitch said to Frenkin. Stephanie arched an eyebrow at him but Haymitch merely winked and then Stephanie snapped round as she felt the jolt of the Chariot move forward.

**Review :)? **


	8. Hairs and His

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games or Haymitch ; ;**

**I thought I would do some more lighthearted chapters before it got serious - because it will as it is still the Hunger Games**

**Special thanks to HGH and Philippa for their kind reviews :)**

**Chapter Eight; Hairs and His**

The Chariot rolled out smoothly to the roars of the gathered crowds. Stephanie cringed internally at the onslaught of sound. Keeping her eyes trained on a spot in the distance she tried to slow her breathing and stop her knees from trembling.

The Chariot moved along swiftly and in perfect order like everything in the Capitol. Stephanie might have been able to marvel at the sheer magnitude and modernity of everything around her, that is if she was able to convince herself to tear her eyes away from the blank spot they were glued on. However she was terrified that if she did she would suddenly faint.

The warmth from the lights attached to her began to grow a little uncomfortable and she resisted the urge to tear them off. Stephanie heard a choking sound and out of the corner of her eye she looked at Frenkin only to realise that the sound had come from her. And then she saw herself.

On huge screens in minute detail. For a moment she was shocked frozen, unable to recognise the girl on the screen. Until amidst the silver paint and glitter she was able to spot the sharp angles that the stylists had attempted to soften with an array of powders and paints and then her eyes, her great great grandfather's eyes, locked with the screens. It was a surreal thing to lock eyes with oneself and the thought almost made Stephanie laugh giddily as she registered the feel of cool metal beneath her bare feet and thought of Haymitch.

Haymitch's words echoed back to her and swallowing her pride among other things she smiled widely showing off her new Capitol pearly white teeth and gave a timid wave. The crowd roared in response and Stephanie waved more confidently even going as far as to blow a few kisses.

As the Chariot slowed to a stop Stephanie felt the butterflies in her stomach begin to settle as the fluctuating roars died down. She became aware of Frenkin's hand clutching hers desperately where she held onto the Chariot with an iron-tight grip. Smiling at him softly she took his clammy hand discreetly and held it tightly while President Snow appeared at the podium and the crowd fell silent.

He gave a speech from his high stage and Stephanie couldn't help the feeling of hatred that bubbled up in her as he welcomed them casually as though they were guests here of their own free-will. Biting her tongue she was thankful when the Chariot once more jerked forward and they entered a vast scrupulously clean room concealing them from sight.

The Chariot jolted to a stop and Stephanie closed her eyes briefly. The whole ordeal had seemed to last but seconds. She was pulled from her reveries when Frenkin's hand slipped from hers.

She turned to look at him when she saw both teams of stylists charging towards them.

'Oh dear' Stephanie thought as she tried to act casual.

Alba was there first blubbering so much he could barely form words until he was consoled by his three stylists. Frenkin looked on with a look of silent pleading and Stephanie gave him an encouraging smile that was until…

She was abruptly yanked off the Chariot and managed to right herself in time as to not crash face-first into the floor. Her dress was hauled up sharply above her knees and she managed to restrain the trigger kick before it could connect with Bright's face.

A series of horrified gasps erupted from her team of stylists.

"I knew it. I had made that dress perfectly so that it would just miss the floor by a hair giving the illusion that you actually had a figure - not pool around your feet like a sack!" Ficen was livid to say the least. Stephanie just stared at her dumbfounded.

She could practically see Ficen's nostrils flaring and Stephanie started to consider the possibility of fleeing but decided she wouldn't get far. She kept her eyes trained on Ficen's fierce gaze afraid to drop it and Haymitch's words when he had called her a wild animal drifted back to her. 'That man has got me in nothing but trouble from the word go' Stephanie thought silently to herself.

"Speak of the devil," Stephanie muttered under her breath as out of the corner of her eye Stephanie saw Haymitch approaching them followed by a tottering Isa in a puffy green dress.

Ficen opened her mouth no doubt to complain to Haymitch about Stephanie again when Haymitch cut across her, "Isa wants to talk dresses," he said and just at that Isa finally reached them and pounced on Ficen talking so fast it was a miracle anyone could understand her. Even Ficen herself seemed overwhelmed by the sudden attack and Bright, Lashes and Silver were nearly cowering behind her narrow form.

Stephanie stared on in amazement until she received a harsh push from Haymitch. With an exasperated sigh she gathered the blue material up in her hands before she tripped over it and moved. Haymitch rescued a grateful Frenkin from the grasps of an over emotional Alba and they made for a silver lift a few metres away.

"What was that?" Stephanie finally said as they stepped into the lift.

"I like to refer to it as the Isa Blitz," he replied in a rather self-pleased tone.

"Oh really?"

"Yes you see I discovered that if you mention any form of clothing to Isa she can talk for hours and so I told her that Ficen had designed a new dress named after her."

Stephanie couldn't help it, she burst out laughing, her laughter reverberating off the lift until the doors slid open silently on the 3rd floor.

However even then she couldn't stop laughing as she remained doubled over clutching her stomach. Maybe it was the thought that she didn't have much longer left until the arena and she would rather laugh than cry that made Haymitch's comments so amusing to her.

Rolling his eyes Haymitch forcibly removed her from the lift, shoving her down onto a nearby sofa until finally her laughter died off and she was able to take in her surroundings.

She gave a low whistle. The room was big while furniture was sparse making the room look even bigger. One whole wall was made of complete glass and her eyes widened as she saw the view of the Capitol provided. She ran her fingertips over the expensive cream leather of the sofa she was sitting on thinking how she had never felt anything as luxurious in her life.

Just then something flashed by her and she turned in time to catch a glimpse of Frenkin as he raced by. "Frenkin!" she called after him.

He stopped briefly to tell her that the bedrooms were 'humongous' and that he was going to check the other rooms. She smirked as he raced off once more, relaxing back into the soft leather, content to remain still for now.

Haymitch appeared and handed her a glass of something while he sat down beside her a glass in his own hand.

She looked at it suspiciously, "What is this?" she asked.

He glanced and her and laughed, "Please darling I need you able to stand and talk for tomorrow," he said.

She smirked but made no argument with him as she took a long satisfying drink of the cold water.

"Will Isa not be mad when she finds out you lied to her?" Stephanie asked after a moment of silence.

"Nah, you will find that Isa is very lenient when it comes to the opposite sex," Haymitch replied arrogantly as he took a gulp from his own glass.

Stephanie sat forward to turn and look at him properly, one of her eyebrows arched. "What it's true!" he defended.

She shook her head which called her attention once more to the huge headpiece she was still wearing. She sat her glass down and turned to him.

"Help me get this off," she said beginning to fumble with the intricate workings of it.

He looked at her with a 'you've got to be joking' expression until she gave him a nudge with her knee and he sat his own glass down. Sighing he moved closer so that he could work at it, batting her hands away.

"OW!" Stephanie said as he pulled at her hair.

"Stop moving!" he complained as another few pins fell with almost inaudible tinkles to the cool white marble floor.

"I said remove the headpiece not my hair," she snapped as she grimaced.

"Ficen should be doing this," he said in annoyance as his brows knitted together in concentration.

"Well thanks to someone she hates me,"

"Oh no sweetheart she hated you before that,"

"Shut up! You're aren't exactly Prince Charming either,"

"Ha! Without me you would have fell off that Chariot"

"I would have managed fine and stop pulling my hair"

"Then why didn't you leave the shoes on! And I'm not you keep moving"

"You took them off!" she said making to stand suddenly but finding herself pulled abruptly back down and sitting in Haymitch's lap.

"What are you doing?" she said making to stand again.

He pulled her back down. "Stay still!...My hand is stuck," he trailed off.

"Oh you have got to be joking me!" she cried.

"Oh believe me sweetheart I wish I was!" he replied.

He tugged sharply and she dealt him a sharp blow to the stomach.

"What was that for?" he demanded.

"Stop pulling my hair, my head hurts enough! Do it again and you will find I can hit lower…remember last time" she warned in response.

He growled something unintelligible in response but his tugs immediately got lighter. She sat with her arms folded on Haymitch's knees while his hands pulled at her hair.

"This is ridiculous," she said after a few moments.

"Well I don't see you helping any sweetheart!" he snapped back.

She turned her head to glare at him, well as much as possible.

"Frenkin get me a pair of scissors!" Haymitch called.

"NOOO!" she practically screamed and Haymitch winced.

"Fine what would you have me do?" he demanded.

She growled at him before she began to tackle the chaos that had amounted on her head – quite literally.

"That is my hand you're bending,"

"Well sorry but your hand is in my hair!"

"Oh believe me darling, I am well aware. In fact I think it is quite impossible to escape the fact that my hand is stuck in your hair. In fa…OW!"

With one last final tug Stephanie managed to very forcibly rip Haymitch's hand from her hair and the metal contortion fell to the ground in a noisy clatter. Her hair cascaded down her back in waves releasing a shower of glitter that made her sneeze.

She was massaging her sore head when Haymitch cleared his throat.

"If you wouldn't mind sweetheart..." he said.

With a huff she stood up immediately and considered throwing a glass of water around him for no particular reason other than it would make her feel better but she decided against it and instead stormed off in the direction that Frenkin had identified as the bedrooms.

**Review and let me know what you think?**


	9. Breathing Difficulties

**Disclaimer; Am I Suzanne Collins? No - I wish but no. Moving on...**

**Two chapters in one day! Woop woop - had a rare case of writer's flow. However I'm a bit wary that I may have just been writing and it mightn't actually be top quality? :S **

**Chapter Nine; Breathing Difficulties**

Luckily for Stephanie Ficen had decided that she wasn't worth the bother and sent Lashes and Bright up to retrieve her costume.

They helped Stephanie out of it (soundlessly she was happy to note) and she gratefully stepped into the shower after they had left her in her new room. After a few moments of pressing random buttons and almost making herself blind from the sudden shots of soapy mixtures the shower assaulted her with she managed to get a steady stream of warm scented water.

As the water soothed her into a warm embrace she allowed her mind to drift back to home. She thought of Eldi and Weisna and Dar, of her father and mother and her brother. She wondered what they were doing? She imagined them watching her on the small television set that would have been provided to them for the Games; watching her ride in on the Chariot looking like a silver storm. Feeling the tears begin to prick her eyes she swallowed harshly and got out of the shower.

She went to the wardrobe and cursed loudly when she was met with a lot of frills once more. She looked to the wardrobe floor with a hopeful expression but there was no hidden bag to save her this time.

The door suddenly rapped and checking the towel was secure around her Stephanie went to answer it. She had barely opened it when Isa burst into the room and bounded over to the huge bed in a blur of bright yellow and perched herself on the end of it.

Stephanie concealed the her scowl as she shut the door; there was no way she was going to let Isa dress her. She absent-mindedly wondered what Isa would do when she ran out of colours to wear.

"You aren't dressed pet," Isa stated the obvious.

"No, I was just going to get dressed before you came," Stephanie replied as kindly as she could.

Isa skipped over to the wardrobe and Stephanie watched her do so in amazement; considering Isa's heels were as tall as the ones Ficen had made her wear.

Isa within seconds had whipped out a few garments and Stephanie could only watch in horror as Isa shoved the purple dress into her arms.

A little while later saw Stephanie being supported down the hall by a beaming Isa.

"Isssaaa," Stephanie managed.

"Hmm, yes pet?" Isa turned to face her, green eyes glinting brightly.

"I …can't breatheee," she said barely above a whisper. The purple dress or 'straightjacket' as Stephanie preferred came down to just above her knees and was made of silk – a material that doesn't fit to suit the owner Stephanie learned. It had long sleeves and was decorated with gold and silver flowers and clinched in at the waist with a wide gold belt.

"Oh nonsense pet! You will get used to it," Isa replied, patting her arm patronisingly.

'Not if I die first from lack of oxygen' Stephanie thought bitterly. She came to a conclusion on why Isa tottered as she did. Stephanie could barely move her legs forward in the constrictive cocoon of the dress and the shoes were in no way helping. They finally arrived at the dining area and Stephanie could have sworn she saw Haymitch smirk.

Somehow managing to ease herself into a seat Stephanie looked doubtfully at the food in front of her. Haymitch sat at the head of the table and Stephanie to his right and Frenkin to his left.

"What's the matter darling? You should try the food, it's delicious," Haymitch addressed her sweetly.

She glared at him. "I don't think it is physically possible for me to eat," she answered.

Haymitch definitely smirked that time and she tried to kick him only to find that her dress also restricted that movement and her foot only managed to brush his leg which he found highly amusing.

"You're losing your touch sweetheart, the Capitol is taming you. Unless of course you didn't mean to kick me at all," and he sent a pointed wink at her.

Frenkin sat obliviously wolfing down food and she noted jealously the loose turquoise shirt and black trousers that he wore.

Isa sat at the other end of the table and holding her fork in some ridiculous fashion began to eat. Stephanie glanced longingly at the food on her plate.

'Damn it!' Stephanie thought and inhaling deeply she forced herself to breath out puffing her cheeks out. It had the desired effect and a moment later a tearing sound could be heard. Finally able to breathe Stephanie pulled her chair in and began to tuck into the food on her plate greedily ignoring Isa's distressed cries.

Frenkin's face had went scarlet red and she sent him an apologetic smile. Beside her Haymitch had paused his eating. She turned to him with a smirk, "I hear you should try the food darling, it's delicious," she said in a sugary voice.

For a moment he said nothing and she didn't look up as she washed her food down with a few gulps of the dark liquid in her glass. Then she heard him laughing and her head snapped round to observe him. His grey eyes were bright and he had a roguish smile.

"Well done sweetheart," he said and he raised his glass to her in a sort of salute and toast.

Dinner was finished pretty swiftly after that and Stephanie concluding that it didn't matter anymore slipped the shoes from her feet and excusing herself from the table sauntered back to her room with them slung over her shoulder. She noted personally that she was going to count that as a win for her.

Once in her room she walked over to the mirror to see what damage she had done. The back of the dress from about the waist where the belt was to the neck had a huge rip revealing a strip of milky white skin also there were two long splits from the hem of the dress to about her mid-thighs. She smiled ruefully to herself and scoffed as she thought of Haymitch's words; 'Tamed?! I'm no Capitol Doll," she thought victoriously in her head. She refrained from letting her thoughts drift to the arena instead deciding that she quite liked this dress now.

Strangling a yawn she clambered over the bed, pulling back the covers but before her head could hit the pillow she was disturbed.

There was a sharp rap on the door however the person on the other side didn't even wait for her to answer and burst on through. There was only one person who would do that. Haymitch.

"Haven't you ever heard of knocking? It's called manners you know," she said, propping her head up with her hand.

"Yeah and ripping your dress apart at a dinner table is perfect etiquette eh?" he shot back with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes but her a smile tugged at her lips. "Fine. Is there a reason for you being here?"

His expression grew grave for a moment as the smirk dissipated and Stephanie felt a tugging in the pit of her stomach.

"I just came to let you know you have an event to attend tomorrow. Ficen will be here early ….and Stephanie don't give her any trouble. You and Ficen will spend the morning with me and Isa learning what you need to know and then the event will be that night," he warned sternly.

"Hold on! Event? Learn what?" she said sitting up suddenly alert. She could hear the hysteria leaking into her voice but she couldn't help it.

"The training begins next week. The first week is socialising. So there's a …shall we say a welcoming party for you tomorrow night. Isa and I will be teaching you how to behave all morning and I'm serious Stephanie you have to pay attention," he answered. His grey eyes were sombre as he lingered at the doorway.

She nodded numbly. What more could she do? It was out of her hands but it still didn't stop her from feeling sick down to the pit of her stomach; she only hoped that her dinner would stay down.

"Oh and Stephanie," Haymitch called. She glanced up to be met with some material thrown at her face. She grabbed it ready to hurl it back with a few choice words when she recognised a pair of slim black trousers and a loose green shirt.

"Thought you might appreciate them," he said and then he left, closing the door after him.

**Let me know what you think? :) Serious stuff approaching soon...:O**


	10. Bright Lights and Late Nights

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games or any of the characters from it**

**HGH; Happy to oblige :) and also ****thanks to all those who followed or viewed :)**

**Though I think that some didn't realize it was 2 chapters updated and missed Chapter 8 and went straight to Chapter 9 if the views are anything to go by but anyway... getting down to serious business now; well sort of.**

**I have made Haymitch more optimistic in my fic compared to the actual Hunger Games; because he is younger in mine and hence hasn't watched as many of his tributes die though it still has had a toll on him - voila the drinking he still hasn't completely succumbed to despair :) Just a heads up :)**

**Chapter Ten; Bright Lights and Late Nights**

The continuing festivities of the Capitol people could be heard dimly long into the night. The thought that she was surrounded by people who so openly rejoiced in death did not bode well with Stephanie. Sitting silently cross-legged on the plush bed Stephanie plaited her hair in an attempt to soothe herself.

A few tears slid down her cheeks despite her attempts to stop them. She wiped them away hastily with the sleeve of the makeshift white nightdress she had fashioned. She had made it from one of the dresses in the wardrobe after Haymitch had left; anything to keep her mind from tomorrow's 'event' and ripping the Capitol dress apart viciously had strangely made her feel better.

She secured her plait with a ribbon and sighing she slipped from the bed. A shiver ran up her spine as her feet touched the cold floor.

Usually if she couldn't sleep at home she would go and climb in with her sister and Eldi. She and Eldi would snuggle close, giggling softly trying not to wake the others, and her sister Weisna would plait their hair by the soft light the moon provided.

However here in the Capitol Stephanie suddenly felt so much older or rather was forced to be. She couldn't be a child anymore – she would be expected to kill in a matter of weeks. She couldn't still be depending on others.

Stephanie tip-toed lightly over to the door and opened it quietly. She gave a hissed curse as the hallway immediately flooded with harsh light automatically. However nothing stirred.

Stephanie darted across the hall to where she knew Frenkin was and cracked the door open a sliver. A strip of light spilled across the room illuminating the bed. He was huddled under the blankets sleeping soundly. Stephanie gave a small sigh and felt another tender tug at her heart. She forced herself to shut the door.

Stephanie frowned deeply. She had hoped a little guiltily that maybe Frenkin would still be awake and she could sit with him. If anyone could understand how she was feeling it would be him she had reasoned. However seeing Frenkin had only troubled Stephanie even more. Unwittingly the small boy with the oversized glasses had whittled his way into her heart and she thought of him as a little brother and a comrade of sorts. It only made it harder for her to come to terms with what they were to eventually face.

With nothing better to do and feeling slightly paranoid under the glaring fluorescent lights Stephanie made her way down the hallway towards the main room.

The room was well-lit by the light the floor-length windows provided. Walking her fingertips along the back of the sofa she approached the windows warily.

Pressing her nose to the cool glass she gazed at the city that was teeming with life; loud and bright below.

"Can't sleep?"

Stephanie gave an ear-splitting scream, spinning on her heel to face the source of the sound.

"Jeez…sweetheart! If you do that in the arena at every sound you won't last the first night," Haymitch said; he was standing barefoot, a half-empty glass in his hand. His hair was dishevelled and he was just in his white shirt and trousers. He could look somewhat handsome in a roguish kind of way she thought and then was snapped out of her thoughts.

"You nearly scared me to death!" she shouted angrily. The sound of a door banging harshly somewhere not too far away made her voice drop.

He rolled his eyes and turned to walk in the direction of the kitchen. She hesitated for a moment and then followed him.

He sat down in one of the chairs and motioned for her to do the same, kicking out a chair for her to sit on.

She sat down with her legs tucked underneath her and began to fiddle with the ribbon at the end of her plait.

"So…" Haymitch began.

Stephanie glared at him. Haymitch ignored her and continued.

"What has you up?"

"Nothing," she snapped back.

He rolled his eyes. "I need you fresh-eyed for the morning," he reminded.

"I can't sleep," she said quietly.

"No kidding sweetheart," he replied in a snarky tone.

She made no reply; her gaze focused far off. He sighed deeply and leaning forward gave her a nudge.

Her eyes snapped to meet his.

"I hate this feeling…" she said quietly.

Haymitch frowned, setting his glass on the table, "What feeling?"

"Of not being able to do anything…of being powerless. I remember when I was young…about seven, I remember now because it was the first year my brother was in the clear. He felt bad about Weisna having to go to the Reaping alone. He's a real protective older brother type," Stephanie gave a shaky laugh. Haymitch remained silent listening to her intently. "He stole something stupid…a pendant or something of the like to try and cheer her up and of course he got caught. They strung him up immediately, 50 lash whips. My mother had told me to go straight home but I snuck back and I saw it. That was the first time I really felt powerless; the first time I really felt a reason to hate the Capitol. Sure I lived starving but I knew no different. I hated the feeling…knowing that no matter if I was right or wrong that my very life could be decided on the whims of someone I never even met," her voice trailed off into silence as her hands trembled but it wasn't with nerves but anger.

Haymitch took her trembling hands in his, running his thumbs over her scarred knuckles soothingly.

"When I was in the Arena…there was so many times I just wanted to give up because I felt that there was no point in fighting because when it came down to it with the push of a button the Capitol could ultimately decide who would win…" Haymitch paused looking down at their hands. "But I discovered that there was some things that the Capitol couldn't control," he spoke quietly.

Stephanie had felt the tears begin to prick at her eyelids and she refused to look at him, instead looking down at her hands still grasped firmly within Haymitch's.

He tilted her chin up gently to meet her eyes like he had done before. Her eyes were burning brightly with emotion and he offered her a small smile.

"Well then what is it?" she said thickly trying to swallow the tears.

"What's what?" he asked in confusion.

"What is it the Capitol can't control because believe me sitting here miles away from all that I know and everyone I love it seems like they control everything," she said a little bitterly.

"If you want to win badly enough the Capitol can't take that want away from you, and if you allow yourself to hope that you can win the Capitol can't take that hope away from you. Stephanie if you believe you can win then you have a chance," Haymitch insisted.

The faint scent on alcohol still clung to Haymitch's cool breath as it washed over her face. Stephanie looked up scouring the depths of Haymitch's grey eyes for any doubt or any hint of a smirk. She found none.

Stephanie gave Haymitch's hands a grateful squeeze.

"I have always been taught to make the best of things…you know if life gives you lemons make lemonade. But this…this takes things to a whole new level," she said, doubt still lacing her voice.

Haymitch shook his head, "I'll teach you how to survive and get you sponsors, Isa will teach you how to be a Capitol doll and Ficen will dress you like one. But there is no point in me giving my all if you aren't willing to fight, to at least try. That's all I'm asking. You have to meet me halfway Stephanie or what is the point."

She stared at him long and hard.

"And what about Frenkin doesn't he get a shot?" she said in a small voice.

Haymitch sighed deeply. "I'll give Frenkin the same opportunities that I give any that I mentor including you…" Haymitch's voice trailed off a mournful look in his grey eyes.

"But…" Stephanie's voice was barely above a whisper.

"But…" Haymitch echoed softly. They exchanged a knowing look; a stare of horrible understanding.

But …no one expected Frenkin to survive; perhaps not even Frenkin himself.

She tore her gaze away from Haymitch's when a particularly loud chorus of cheers erupted from somewhere in the Capitol. She sighed feeling the new feeling of hatred pulse through her veins and what disturbed her even more was that it was becoming oh so familiar.

"So how bad is this 'event' likely to be?" she tried to sound nonchalant.

"Sweetheart a party with free booze can never be considered bad," he said and releasing her hands leaned back once more on his chair. She gave a wan smile but an empty feeling settled in her stomach which she pushed away with a frown.

"So…who will be there?"

"Tributes, mentors, stylists…" Stephanie interjected with a groan at the thought of Ficen watching her every move.

"I guess that means there's no chance of going barefoot?"

"Afraid not sweetheart. There will also be general Capitol people – those are the ones you want to impress – they're the ones who can get you that drink of water that could save your life in the arena"

"Hhmph," Stephanie rolled her eyes and received a stern glance from Haymitch.

"And the Gamemakers will also be there," Haymitch added without bothering to hide the tone of disgust at their mention.

"Well I suppose it will be nice to put a face to my murderers," she replied sarcastically.

"Hey!"

"Yea, yea I know positive thinking and all that,"

"You never know one of them might get drunk and let something slip,"

"Or hopefully slip themselves and crack open their skull,"

"As much as that would be a truly pleasant sight to see make sure it isn't your foot they trip over," Haymitch warned sternly.

After pouting stubbornly and childishly for a moment she finally conceded; admitting weakly in her own mind she probably wouldn't have the nerve to do it.

"Fine. Anyway there is more chance of you slipping and cracking after you have hit the bar,"

"Well it would be right after you sweetheart in those high shoes of yours then wouldn't it,"

She grimaced thinking of the contraption Ficen was most likely preparing for her as a punishment.

"Will there be more events like this? I mean what is the rest of the week going to be like?" she asked.

"Busy," he answered, tactfully avoiding her questions. Not a good sign.

She was about to demand answers when Haymitch glanced at his arm and tapping the face of an imaginary watch gave a long whistle.

"Well Sleeping Beauty it is high time you hit the hay,"

She frowned before reluctantly getting to her feet and fell back onto the chair after discovering her legs had fallen asleep because of her sitting on them for so long.

She glared when Haymitch found it highly amusing.

Outside there was the explosion of fireworks as a shower of vibrant colours lit the sky for a few moments before disappearing silently into the night sky with a few whispers of smoke. Stephanie couldn't help but feel a bit like one of the fireworks.

She would shine brightly on the screens of every television in Panem for a little while and then when she died in the arena she would disappear into nothing. The Capitol only ever remembered its Victors.

And maybe it was because she felt that death really was on her young doorstep, or maybe because it just seemed like a natural thing to do when fireworks were exploding above you in the sky, accompanied by the sudden grateful companionship and understanding she now felt for Haymitch that inspired her actions; as Stephanie leaned across and kissed Haymitch softly on the lips. It lasted but a few seconds before she pulled away and got up, walking out of the kitchen. "Night Haymitch …and thanks," she called over her shoulder and for once in a long while Haymitch sat completely stunned into silence.

**Well review and let me know what you think; I hope the ending wasn't too rushed or out of the blue but I was eager for something to happen before I introduced loveinterest#2 into the mix ;) ;) I also wanted it to be a bit unexpected and not the whole undying proclamation of love type kiss because after all it is Haymitch sweetheart :P and plus Stephanie is still in the Hunger Games for crying out loud! It ain't no fairytale romance :L - I wanted it to be somewhat bittersweet? But please do let me know what you thought or if you disagree or whatever? :)**


	11. What the heck was that?

**Disclaimer; I don't own anything you recognize from Suzanne Collins work ...obvs.**

**HGH; Great suggestion and so this chapter's for you and I promise to include more Haymitch POV :D**

**Philippa; Thanks for the review, but oh dear it looks like I haven't done a swell job trying to kindle a romance :S. Hopefully however you will stick with it and I will be able to win you over.**  
**Plus yes Stephanie is 18 and I hope that's a good thing that she's cool and mature? :)**

**Well I will be posting a chapter daily from now on; well hopefully; I've already got up to Chapter 16 written however just a heads up - I'm really not happy with them, I can't pinpoint what's wrong with them but I just don't feel I've got it right - so constructive criticism or whatever would be greatly appreciated.**

**Chapter Eleven: What the heck was that?**

Haymitch sat staring blankly at where Stephanie had been standing moments before. Moments before she had kissed him and then waltzed out of the kitchen as if it were the most natural thing in the world!

He licked his lips, briefly tasting the faint sweet imprint of her lips on his. Stephanie had really discovered her sweet tooth since coming to the Capitol Haymitch thought, after recalling how she had reacted when first discovering ice cream at dinner. Her lips had almost been blue by the time she had decided she had enough.

Why had she kissed him? Haymitch thought. He got to his feet and padded over to the window knocking back the last of his drink. It tasted bitter.

He looked out the window much in the same way that Stephanie had been doing when he caught her. The fluorescent gaudy lights of the Capitol were beginning to dull and the din was waning.

An unbidden and unwelcome memory flashed before him with painful clarity. A scared and alone 16 year old boy watching the hours go by and the sky lighten on his last day of freedom. 'Freedom – Ha! That was a joke' Haymitch thought bitterly, returning once more to the kitchen to get another drink. He wanted to drown that memory in as much alcohol as it would take.

The vodka spilled a little as he poured it when his mind drifted. 'But why?' the question was infuriating. He almost had a good mind to go and drag Stephanie from her bed and demand an explanation.

He remembered as a younger boy…before the Reaping; chasing girls and flirting with them and a kiss in that situation was understandable, in fact it was expected.

But that…he thought back to what they were speaking about. He had been telling her to fight to try and win.

But there was nothing strange about that – he had wanted each and every one of the eighteen tributes who came before her to win and now he wanted her and Frenkin to win. He knew that they both couldn't survive and a guilty part of his mind conceded how he was already hoping that they would give Frenkin a quick death at least.

But out of his previous tributes not one of them had actually kissed him!

She wasn't any different from any of the tributes who had come before her and when she died in the arena he would go and drink himself into a comatose state having failed another. Stephanie wasn't any different…was she?

He frowned downing the glass of vodka in one go. Most of the times she aggravated the hell out of him and she was much too stubborn for her own good. She had a tendency to faint and get generally ill at the worst times and her …ahem greeting to him was less than warm. And not to mention her latest antics that had him still downing shots of vodka at 3 in the morning to try and quell the upsurge of memories she had resurfaced!

And yet the girl sure had spirit…No! She was a tribute and would most likely be dead in a few weeks, to even continue that train of thought was just asking for trouble he berated himself. Besides a spirit like that didn't last long in the Capitol not when she would soon have to witness the horrors first hand.

He brought the glass down on the worktop loudly. "Why did she kiss me?!" he seemed to be demanding an answer of the vodka bottle. But as inanimate objects tend to do – except when the person is in a hallucinating state – it remained silent.

He growled before making his way down the hallway to the bedrooms and upon reaching her door flung it open with an expression like thunder.

Stephanie was asleep wrapped in a semi-cocoon of cream silk; one arm hanging over the bed haphazardly.

She was frowning a little in her sleep and once or twice shifted uneasily. Sighing Haymitch walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge defeated. She mumbled something incoherent, tossing violently and kicking him.

"Great one sweetheart; even in your sleep you're attacking me," he mumbled.

She gave a sudden whimper; her arm raised up in a defensive motion. He hushed her softly; he had a fair idea what she was dreaming about…the Games.

Nightmares; he had them every night, haunted by those he had watched die. He might not have been able to see what lurked behind her eyelids but he sure as hell knew how it felt. For a moment in time he imagined her dead, the hollow sound of the cannon booming announcing her demise, would it be painful? Would it be quick? Would she cry out? "Will you haunt me when you die?" he asked quietly. He lifted her arm and directed it beneath the covers of her cocoon. She turned her back to him snuggling down once more into the pillow.

He didn't want her to die. He didn't want to have to watch her die. He didn't want to have to watch Frenkin die.

Frenkin was just a kid he didn't belong here. Neither did she. Heck; neither did he.

He looked at her and decided he liked her. She kind of grew on him he thought thinking with a smirk back to their first meeting. Being in the same room as her was never boring at least he added recalling her actions only a few minutes ago.

He got up with a sigh and went to the door pausing in the threshold to look at her sleeping soundly.

Then with a truly Haymitch smirk he slammed her door with as much force as he could, smiling smugly at the huge bang that echoed down the hallway.

"Sorry kid," he mumbled when he heard Frenkin's yelp from the other room. But walking down the hallway he stretched his arms above his head, before picking up a bottle of half-finished liquor from the table where he left it and took a swig with an almost proud expression to Stephanie's scream, "HAYMITCHHH!"

**Don't forget to review please? :) **


	12. Training Fiasco

**Disclaimer; Don't own a thing yada yada**

**HGH; Don't we all? lol; but I can't tell that! That would give it all away ;) lol; but don't worry Seneca will be appearing soon.**

**The perspective changes halfway through this chapter from Haymitch to Stephanie - sorry for any confusion. I'll be doing that from now on...changing perspectives. I'll try to make it as clear as possible :) **

**Chapter Twelve; Training Fiasco**

The next morning at breakfast Stephanie was sending daggers at Haymitch over the table.

"Sleep well darling?" he asked, biting into a piece of toast.

She viciously stabbed the butter before answering, "You know I didn't," she replied quietly.

He frowned. Where was the snarky reply? The kick under the table?

Isa appeared suddenly, eyes glued to a compact mirror as she viewed her face, obviously distressed.

"There was so much noise last night that poor Isa woke up and now look…look! Look at that! I have bags!" she whined, collapsing defeated into one of the chairs.

Haymitch glanced over at Stephanie. She was in the process of mutilating a piece of bread. 'Jeez…now what's her problem? If anyone has a reason to be out of sorts this morning it's me!' Haymitch thought sourly.

...

Ficen appeared promptly much to Stephanie's disappointment and she was whisked away and into one of the many rooms on their floor that she had no idea existed. The idea that the whole floor was theirs had been a little overwhelming to say the least.

Lashes, Bright and Silver where waiting and Stephanie was a little miffed when she noticed that Silver was now sporting a lime green nail polish making his nickname a little redundant. However dismissing it she decided that she would still call him Silver, in her mind anyway.

As she passed them she noticed a flash of red material behind them and she gave a small brief smile when she came to the conclusion that it must be her outfit. Red was her favourite colour; it was the colour of a warm fire, a ripe apple, blushing cheeks and what was it they always said?...Ah yes red was the colour of love.

As the morning wore on Stephanie's patience grew thin and her mood only got fouler. All the free time standing about doing nothing had allowed her mind to dwell on things it would rather not.

Stephanie barely reacted when Ficen 'accidently' stuck a pin into her leg when adjusting the dress.

Contrary to Haymitch's suspicions that she had given the kiss no more thought it was the one thing that refused to leave her mind.

It had been a spur of the moment thing…hadn't it? She sighed again coming back to the same question that had unknowing to her been plaguing Haymitch also.

'Why did I kiss Haymitch' she thought.

At the time it had seemed natural; was it a thank-you for his encouragement? Maybe. But no.

It wasn't even a kiss, more of a quick peck really, Stephanie reasoned. She clenched her fists together in annoyance.

Today was not a good day. The kiss dilemma with Haymitch refused to leave her be and she felt she couldn't bring it up with Haymitch because he seemed to have completely forgotten about it.

Then Ficen was enjoying using her as a pin-cushion and seemed to have made everything a size too small just so she could have the joy of watching Stephanie turn a shade of red that rivalled that of the dress as she squeezed painfully into it.

Then she had the 'classes' to look forward to on how to act like a Capitol doll and Isa had dropped by to announce that she would be teaching Frenkin and Haymitch would be taking her. So great she had a whole lot of alone time with Haymitch and she still didn't know why she had kissed him.

And just to round it off she had the 'event' tonight where she would have to spend the whole time fawning over Capitol people so she could get sponsors. Why didn't she just get down on her knees and beg? Would that be demeaning enough for the Capitol she thought angrily.

Oh and of course was it mentioned that it was most likely she was going to die in a few weeks, horribly and for her family to witness and she could do absolutely nothing about it.

Yes; today was not a good day.

Stephanie glanced down as Ficen stuck another pin in her. Ficen had ceased trying to conceal it and was now openly just stabbing her with pins after Stephanie had stopped reacting after the twentieth time.

Finally after the most tedious few hours of Stephanie's life Ficen had finished amending the dress and she was allowed to change back into her green shirt and black trousers. She wondered absent-mindedly where Haymitch had got them from.

Gingerly entering the kitchen Stephanie nearly did a double take when her eyes landed on Haymitch sitting there in the exact same spot where she had kissed him last night.

Haymitch's head snapped around when she entered, swigging from a bottle of clear liquid; he motioned for her to sit.

She groaned in frustration before grudgingly taking the exact same seat she had sat in last night facing him.

Squirming uncomfortably for a few moments she finally broke the silence, "So what is it you are going to teach me about?"

"How to behave…properly"

"Should Isa not be teaching me this on the account of her being a Capitol woman," Stephanie replied crossing her arms defiantly.

Haymitch took a swig and then leaned forward. This whole scene was becoming annoyingly familiar.

"Capitol people live to please others," Haymitch stated ignoring her question much to her displeasure.

Stephanie looked at him in confusion. "I find that hard to believe," she stated dryly.

"If we were back home in District 3 and a girl told you that the dress or whatever a person like you wears was awful would you blow a fuse?" he said.

Stephanie ignored the pull of her heartstrings at the mention of home.

"No," Stephanie scoffed, "why would I? I don't care what she thinks of it,"

"You see that is the main difference between us and them. They do; they live by others," Haymitch said.

"So…?" Stephanie prompted impatiently.

"You must appeal to them. Flatter them and flirt with them if needs be. Look sweetheart I can't stress enough to you how important this whole things is," Haymitch emphasised his words painfully upon beholding her expression grow more incredulous as he continued.

"Then why isn't Isa teaching me how to do these things, it's not as if I can learn how to behave from you"

"You can't be taught how to do this stuff"

"Then why did you say you were going to teach me"

"I meant figuratively"

"Fine"

"Are you going to argue with me over every point?"

"I wasn't arguing I said fine!"

Haymitch paused taking a generous swig from the bottle.

"…People pleasing is a skill you must practice…a lot in your case. In short sweetheart Frenkin ain't the strong type so he won't appeal to sponsors but he can appeal with his … boyish charm to female sponsors etc."

A tender smile crossed her lips as she thought of Frenkin, little serious Frenkin with his oversized glasses trying to charm someone like Isa.

"And you well you ain't too strong either by the looks of it," Stephanie glared at him but he continued, "but with your … well if you can be nice to someone for more than five minutes then maybe you can appeal to someone. Then of course Ficen will dress you up to look the part, fancy dress to attract the men primarily," and then realisation dawned as Stephanie finally cottoned on.

"It's a lot more primitive that I thought," she finally said.

"Yeah well the Capitol isn't the pristine society it claims to be," Haymitch replied.

"Fine then how do I practice these oh so great people pleasing skills?" she asked sarcastically.

"Flirt with me."

Stephanie landed on the ground with a heavy thump and a long curse. She hadn't exactly fainted, more along the lines of falling from the chair in shock.

"Well sweetheart you really have a most inventive way of catching a man's attention. However I'm afraid that the Capitol men don't really do the whole damsel in distress thing," Haymitch said as he looked down at her, smirking.

She peeled herself off the floor and crawled back onto her chair rubbing her back and scowling at him. She pitied Frenkin wherever he was with Isa.

"I'm not doing this with you," she said angrily, "or anyone!" she added hurriedly.

He looked at her frankly; grey eyes boring into her. 'Oh no' Stephanie thought, 'you are not going to get the chance' and leapt from her chair practically sprinting for the door.

But it was too late he had the words out before she could reach it.

"Why did you kiss me?"

**If you have the time drop me a quick review?**


	13. Needed Comrades

**Disclaimer; Anything you recognize belongs to Suzanne Collins**

**HGH; I love cliffhangers...because I'm evil (mwahaha) Jk; :P**

**Philippa; Glad to hear it :) and I will though time zones etc might make it a bit weird just keep an eye out :)**

**& Thanks to all those who read :D I hope you continue to do so and enjoy... maybe leave me a review some time letting me know? ;)**

**Chapter Thirteen; Needed Comrades**

Stephanie paused mid-step with her back to him.

Haymitch waited for her to turn around, after observing her sour mood all morning and concerning the genuine topic of her 'training' he had decided a talk was necessary.

Stephanie's heart was pounding in her chest; now what did she do? She almost wished she hadn't kissed him to begin with. Almost.

Without turning around she answered him, "I don't know," she admitted lamely.

"Sweetheart…" Haymitch began in an exasperated tone that just seemed to irk her and she whipped around sharply; eyes blazing.

"What?!" she shouted.

Haymitch looked at her; his eyes hardened again at her outburst. "Well sweetheart the Capitol men will just love you if you kiss people for absolutely no reason," Haymitch stated sarcastically.

"It was a thank-you," she shouted back.

"The words usually suffice darling,"

"I just...couldn't help thinking of how I wouldn't be around for much longer,"

Haymitch's face softened for a moment.

"I thought you said you would try,"

"I know and I will, but…I still can't help feeling like I'm heading for my death, like every day is one of my last. At that minute I just thought…"

"A sort of live for the moment kind of thing?" Haymitch suggested helpfully; he knew the feeling. Stephanie felt a flare of warmth in her heart at the words; he understood. And surrounded by stylists who couldn't understand why you had never thought to curl your eyelashes and Capitol nonsense in general that was rare. She had missed it.

"Yeah. I feel alone here. You and Frenkin are like…my family or comrades or something,"

"Or it could be just that I'm irresistible"

"Yea and the Hunger Games will end one day," she added sarcastically with a roll of her eyes.

"Well…" he breathed meeting her eyes.

"Yea," she agreed, even though she had no idea what she was agreeing to.

And then she smirked.

"Truce?" she held out her hand.

"Truce," he agreed.

"Although I get the whole comradeship mutual comfort thing you have going on sweetheart I wouldn't kiss Frenkin, you might traumatise him before he gets to the arena," he said as he knocked back another glass.

She laughed despite herself, "Shut up and let's get this over with,"

It turned out that Stephanie was horrible at this Capitol 'flirting and fawning' Everytime she tried to give a compliment it would be followed by a sharp retort under her breath that would completely undermine it.

What made matters worse is that Isa and Frenkin had called in and Isa had proclaimed Frenkin to be a natural much to Stephanie's and she suspected Haymitch's surprise.

While Stephanie was getting a drink she caught Frenkin alone.

"Pssst, Frenkin what did you do?" she whispered.

"I don't know. Nothing really. I just answered her questions truthfully," he said seriously, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"Right sweetheart let's try this again," Haymitch said, running a hand through his hair in barely concealed frustration.

She trudged over to him with a scowl.

"Sweetheart with a face like that it will be a wonder if anyone approaches you,"

She gave a sugary sweet smile.

"Hello, how are you finding the Capitol sweetheart?"

"Will they call me sweetheart?"

He gave a long hard look and she dropped her question.

"It is truly amazing. I mean the whole city is breath-taking well what little I have seen of it being from a little District…" Haymitch nodded in encouragement as she continued.

"Yes the Capitol and their people are so much more refined and civilised…it must be a real tough act to keep up especially when you're butchering kids on a live show,"

Haymitch cursed. "That's it! We tape her mouth shut and tell everyone she is dumb. I know I will have a better chance at selling the mute tribute than this,"

"I am not being sold"

"You are to the sponsors!"

Stephanie gave an inarticulate sound of rage. "It's not easy!"

"Stop acting so immature. I thought you said you would fight!"

"I am not and I will fight"

"Then stop being so difficult, you know which things to say and which not"

She scowled at him but made no argument because she knew he was right.

"If you can't get rid of that pride I can't work with you,"

…

Stephanie had stormed from the room shortly after that and had refused to come from her room even for Frenkin.

As Isa was teaching Frenkin proper table manners Haymitch found himself outside Stephanie's door with a bottle of vodka and picking the lock. There was no sound from within the room and Haymitch guessed that she was asleep – well not for long he thought.

The lock was a little harder to pick than he thought but that might have had something to do with the now empty bottle sitting on the floor beside her door. Finally with a resounding click he was able to open the door and true enough Stephanie was curled up in a ball on the bed sound asleep.

He walked quietly over to the bed and then with a swift tug he pulled the blankets off her. Unfortunately Stephanie liked to wrap herself in a cocoon of blankets and when they unravelled she found herself on the floor.

Stephanie sat up quickly with a murderous look in her eyes to find Haymitch reclined on her bed.

"Was that really necessary?" she managed through gritted teeth.

"It was effective, wasn't it?" he answered.

Stephanie dragged herself up off the ground to stand with her hands on her hips glaring down at Haymitch.

"We need to talk sweetheart so you may want to make yourself comfortable,"

"I thought we already talked"

"Yea well we're talking again"

Stephanie didn't move and Haymitch rolled his eyes at her stubbornness, "fine."

"You sweetheart are…proud, stubborn…"

"What is this just a list of all the bad things about me" Stephanie interrupted.

"You didn't let me finish…another habit of yours,"

She bit her tongue and remained silent.

"Being proud can be a good thing but not in this situation,"

"I can see that"

"Then why do you insist on it"

"Well I'm sorry I don't find it so easy to grovel," sarcasm dripping from her every word.

Haymitch grabbed her fiercely by the wrist and pulled her down to sit on the bed so he could be at eye-level with her.

"I told you last night that you had to want to win," he said fiercely, all traces of Haymitch's usual nonchalant and sarcastic tone gone.

She looked at him coldly, "of course I want to win," she said sharply.

"Yea well wanting to win counts for nothing if you have already signed yourself away as dead, because then you clearly don't want it enough," he dropped her wrist watching her closely as his words sank in.

"I'm not strong,"

"I know"

"I don't know how to use a bow or how to fight in hand on combat"

"I know"

"I haven't the most pleasant personality"

"Oh believe me sweetheart I know"

She swatted his arm before turning to face him seriously; eyes burning brightly, hands trembling slightly.

"You still believe I can win?"

Haymitch held her gaze for a few moments. "Yea."

In less than a minute she had thrown her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as the first few tears escaped. After recovering from initially getting the wind knocked out of him Haymitch wrapped his arms around her simply holding her.

After a few moments he felt the trembling in her shoulders cease and he chanced a glance down; her face was still hidden.

"Sweetheart just a warning, you ain't walking away from this one casually,"

Stephanie pulled back to face him, eyes red rimmed and brow creased in confusion.

"After you kissed me you pranced out without a word of explanation, what was the hug for?"

"Because you believe I can win; that's bigger aspirations than I had for myself," she admitted.

He leaned back casually.

"Plus…I already explained to you the kiss was a sort of thank-you and because I felt like I was practically dying and I felt alone here in the Capitol where no one understands me," Stephanie's voice rose in volume as she dealt Haymitch a swift punch to the arm.

"I don't know about being good at combat but there's definitely something to work on there," Haymitch said rubbing his arm.

Stephanie gave a small smile feeling a little proud of herself; of course until Haymitch interrupted it.

"Are you sure it hasn't anything to do with you not being able to resist my rugged looks,"

Stephanie arched an eyebrow at him but before she could answer Isa popped her head in the door.

"Oh Haymitch pet there you are and Stephanie what a surprise you're up,"

Haymitch and Stephanie looked to her expectantly. Isa as usual was oblivious…as she was to most things around her.

"Is there something in particular you wanted Isa?" Stephanie prompted.

"Oh yes, we have just got the footage of all 99 of the Hunger Games! So we can watch them and take notes, you know all the technical side of things. Very serious business. I'll go get the popcorn," Isa said excitedly before skipping down the hall.

Stephanie sat silent, a hollow feeling in her stomach. She didn't want to watch what would be her in a few weeks. As if reading her mind Haymitch spoke, "I'll get her to delay until tomorrow." Stephanie nodded in weak thanks.

Somewhere a clock chimed; Stephanie was shocked that they would have something so…old in the Capitol. She glanced at the alarm clock beside her bed. It was 2:50.

There would be another light meal and then more practicing before Ficen would arrive to help her with her dress and then…the event.

She looked up and was momentarily surprised to meet Haymitch's keen grey eyes.

Stephanie felt an understanding with Haymitch and he for her; one that could only be born between those who had felt what it was like to face your own death and the anger in knowing that you would die for nothing and couldn't stop it.

Stephanie had no great expectations for anything spectacular in life just the normal; something like what her sister had and yet it had been cruelly snatched away from her.

It had been her last year and then she would be safe from the Hunger Games forever; but no she had been chosen. A stroke of luck…of cruel irony.

That was why she kissed Haymitch because in a world of painted faces she was lost and he was the only thing that reminded her of a future that was now lost to her forever in her mind.

And Haymitch…well he might have won but he had still lost. Unable to forget and move on he might as well have died he had thought as a growing list of faces haunted his dreams until even when his eyes were open he could still see them.

In ways that they didn't fully know themselves they needed the other. She was his redemption…if he could save her then maybe the faces wouldn't haunt him anymore. And she needed someone who believed she could be saved for despite her basic human instinct to survive when she looked in the mirror all she saw was a dead girl.

**A little darker than usual but after all it is the Hunger Games; btw Seneca will be showing his face and beard (heehee) in Chapter 16 :D **


	14. Anger

**Disclaimer; I am not Suzanne Collins :(**

**HGH; I know; so do I :D or do I? You will have to keep reading...:P**

**The rating went up because of 'violence' in this chapter - I'm not sure if it warrants a T but better safe than sorry (:**

**Chapter Fourteen; Anger**

Haymitch had left her room shortly after claiming that he needed a drink and so that so Stephanie could get a shower, in an attempt to relieve her stress before some more 'training.'

When she stepped out of the hot water of the shower she enveloped herself in the soft cotton robe, not bothering to get dressed yet and went to lie on the bed.

She inhaled deeply; the robe smelt…fresh, like a cool day's breeze. Shutting her eyes she allowed herself to remember. She was 8, her sister 14 and her brother 16. Her sister was teaching her how to do a plait by using blades of grass. It was a small field beside the factory. They were waiting on their brother and father finishing work. She remembered how fresh the air smelt as it whispered over the grass and then there was the huge explosion. She screamed, Weisna dragging her to her feet as they looked on in horror at the black clouds of smoke billowing out from the factory. That had been the day her father had lost his arm, she remembered how as they waited outside the small and inept infirmary how tightly her brother had held her, burying his face in her hair unable to look at anyone. She had simply held onto him, not understanding why her brother was so distressed in her childlike innocence.

She lifted her heavy head from the pillow that was now soaked in her tears and got up to wash her face. This time she used cold water.

She put on the black trousers and green shirt and searched for her faithful piece of string, kicking the bed harshly when she couldn't find it.

"Now what is it?" Haymitch called as he stood in the doorway.

She turned to face him with a scowl and a muttered "nothing."

"Come on; we need to get back to work anyway,"

Stephanie followed him dutifully out and down the hall. They sat in the main room this time. They practiced exchanging pleasantries etc. and after her initial shaky start she started to get the hang of it. Rehearsed replies were easier she found.

Dinner came and went. She said she wasn't hungry and Haymitch just had another bottle of orangey coloured alcohol as he sat beside her continuing on with her 'training'. In truth she couldn't eat as the hours ticked by.

Ficen had arrived unreasonably early claiming that she would need it to make Stephanie look presentable.

She followed Ficen reluctantly and into the same room as before; only this time the room was sweltering. The heat in the room almost suffocated her.

"Why is it so warm?" she said.

Ficen gave her an answer that made absolutely no sense to her.

Before Ficen could start Stephanie interrupted her, "I'm going to get a drink," and she rushed from the room. She was definitely going to try and get the heat in the room down.

She heard voices coming from main room and went in; thinking she could complain to Haymitch or even Isa about it.

Surely Ficen trying to roast her alive before she got to the arena was illegal.

She rounded the corner and the colour immediately drained from her face.

The wide screen sleek black television was on and it was showing the Hunger Games what year she didn't know or couldn't think.

Stephanie could only register the sickening thud of the knife as it was plunged repeatedly into the screaming girl below and then how her screams became garbled as crimson blood stained her mouth mixing with her tears. The girl with the knife eventually stopped when the girl's screams had died; glassy eyes locked in a stare; arms falling lifelessly to her sides; all life gone. The girl with the knife fell back on her knees, the knife dropping soundlessly from her blood-stained hands to the booming voice of Caesar Flickerman presenting the 'victor of the 80th Hunger Games'. But it was the look on the girl's face. It wasn't victorious or joyous it was relief and guilt as she began to issue choking sobs from her dry cracked lips. Of course the Capitol cut away immediately to shots of the cheering Capitol crowds.

'Could I do that? Would I do it to survive?' The sick feeling had already claimed her stomach and her head was spinning but she was too angry; how could the Capitol people think this was entertaining? They had destroyed so many lives.

She staggered a few steps forward and then fell to her knees, she felt the sobs begin to rise up in her throat and for those few moments she felt as though she were the Victor girl of the 80th Hunger Games; and she felt sick at herself. She couldn't kill. She couldn't have blood on her hands. And yet she knew that when it came down to it she would kill to save herself.

Stephanie barely registered Haymitch as he pulled her to her feet and the television screen once more became sleek and black. Haymitch shook her harshly.

"I …ca…can't. I can't do it,"

"You have to"

"No…n…no"

"What did you feel?"

"...What ?"

"Seeing that what did it make you feel?"

"Sick. Powerless …ANGRY!"

"Angry at who?"

"The Capitol"

"Then use that anger"

"What"

"Use it when you fight. Think of all the lives the Capitol take without a second thought, think of that girl – the Victor of the 80th Hunger Games. Use your anger to survive. Because you don't want to be another victim,"

"I just…want to survive"

Stephanie melted into Haymitch as he pulled her to him tightly. She needed to feel secure, needed someone who understood the human instinct to survive that would make her a killer but someone who would still accept her because they knew the guilt and shame that she would feel.

She briefly thought how Haymitch smelt like cotton, like her robe, like the fresh day's breeze that day back home. Home; how far away it seemed. She heard Haymitch's voice distantly, "You will survive," but it was growing farther away.

And then it was as if a veil of darkness had been pulled over her eyes and she slumped in Haymitch's arms.

**Another darker chapter but the party is coming up so that should brighten things up :D **


	15. Red

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

**Well these chapters are dark :/ but anyways...Next chapter - Seneca XD + party**

**Chapter Fifteen; Red**

Haymitch scooped Stephanie up ignoring Ficen's angry rant and carried her to her bedroom.

He sat her on the bed and went to get some water.

'At last she has a reason to fight' he thought as he lifted the glass of icy water and walked out of the kitchen; by-passing the bottle of vodka on the counter.

He walked in to her bedroom. She was coming to; she had only fainted.

"Here," he handed her the cold water when she propped herself up on her elbows.

She took it soundlessly and finished it off in one go as Haymitch sat down on the edge of the bed.

Haymitch was about to speak when she cut across him.

"I will fight"

He looked at her. She was as pale as death but her eyes were sharp, determined.

He watched her walk out of the room once more down the hall and towards Ficen. She barely glanced at the television.

The girl who had got on the train, who was angry at the Capitol for hurting her brother and had never really experienced the full force of the Capitol's cruelty was gone; replaced by a new girl who was still angry but who now would do what it took to survive. And as Haymitch watched her he couldn't help but feel sad, a sense of loss even though he knew that sooner or later that the Capitol would take her spirit. It still didn't stop him wishing he could get back the girl who had kissed him under the fireworks.

…

After a loud rant from Ficen she had finally forced Stephanie into her dress and got her ready. In usual Ficen style her preparation took hours and once or twice Stephanie felt faint from the lack of sustenance but she steeled herself against it each time.

When she was finally finished Ficen directed Stephanie to practice walking about in her dress to get the 'feel' of it.

"I have been wearing it for the past three hours I'm pretty certain I know how it feels," Stephanie bit back.

"Walk about. Do not eat, talk, drink or do any other idiotic things that may ruin the dress before the party," Ficen insisted threateningly.

"How about I just stop breathing, do you think the dress would be safe then?" Stephanie shouted.

"No…" Ficen trailed off with a callous smirk. "Save that for the arena," and she stalked out of the room.

Stephanie couldn't muster the strength to even glare after her. "I hate her," she said through gritted teeth. And she felt misery weigh heavier in her heart at her words. It wasn't because there was any great love lost between the stylist and the tribute.

Growing up Stephanie had had one enemy that she hated – the Capitol; some unknown force that she didn't understand only that she knew she hated it. But now ever since she had arrived at the Capitol her hate had grown steadily; a list of names and faces to hate individually; Ficen, Bright, Lashes, Silver, Isa, President Snow, Career tributes she didn't even know…the list went on and it weighed on her.

Even worse sometimes the lines of hatred were blurred and unclear like with Isa. Isa was just doing her job and someone that naïve couldn't possibly be intentionally bad – could they? And yet she was part of the Capitol that Stephanie had always hated.

She gave an acrimonious laugh. She had hated Haymitch when she had first met him and now…well she wasn't exactly sure what she felt about Haymitch now but it wasn't hate. She wondered for a brief moment if she had of met Haymitch under different circumstances; like bumping into him in her District when she was still a naïve little girl what the outcome would have been.

Glancing in the mirror she noted that she wasn't a little girl anymore. The crimson dress hugged her figure, the padding creating fake curves where she had only jutting bone, to her mid thighs and then flared out so that when she turned quickly it would fan out. It was sleeveless – an attribute she didn't like. She felt so exposed though she was grateful that Ficen had let her wear her hair down. Lashes and Bright had laboriously curled it so that it fell in soft brunette waves about her shoulders to her waist. Growing up haircuts hadn't exactly been a priority. She tugged at it experimentally to test if it was a wig; she had never seen her hair looking so …healthy and glossy?

Ficen had gone with minimalistic but sultry make-up this time much to Stephanie's relief. Stephanie was afraid that after the silver paint at the Opening Ceremony that Ficen had a thing for the dramatics. Her lips had been painted/dyed/coloured (she hadn't been paying attention) the same colour as her dress. She met her eyes in the mirror like she had on the screen at the ceremony. There was a hardness in them that wasn't there before. No; she was most definitely not a little girl anymore.

Stephanie left the room and walked gracefully down the stairs; she was still barefoot. And she smiled when it made her think of Haymitch.

She entered the kitchen to the delighted squeals of Isa. Frenkin looked at her with wide eyes; he wore a light blue suit that matched his eyes with a yellow bowtie and his sandy hair had been slicked back.

"I knew you would suit red Stephanie; I just knew it! I was the one who recommended it to Ficen!" Isa beamed. "Haymitch look – isn't she a complete doll?" Isa said.

Stephanie turned as Haymitch entered in a satin black tuxedo and tamed hair; looking every inch the Capitol gentleman. He gave her a weak smirk, "Very nice sweetheart."

"Red is the colour of love and passion!" Isa exclaimed dramatically as she pranced about the room.

"No," Stephanie said suddenly, Haymitch glanced up to meet her gaze, "Red is the colour of blood."


	16. Capitol Doll

**Disclaimer; I don't own the usual **

**Philippa; I know what kind of mood was I in when I wrote those chapters?! Haha; Thanks so much :) Glad to be of service and I hope you continue to enjoy. Well well you will have to wait and see ;) heehee**

**Chapter Sixteen; Capitol Doll**

As they were leaving the building Stephanie caught glimpses of the other tributes; a tall blonde boy in a purple suit and a girl with pixie-like features and long glossy black hair but they were gone as quickly as she could see them. The waiting guards didn't go amiss either and Stephanie smiled ruefully knowing that they were there to stop them from running. They were ushered quickly into waiting long low black cars with tinted windows.

The interior of the car was cream, smooth and cold. The scent was fresh but it wasn't the same as Haymitch or that day in the field it was fresh in the sense of something new, crisp and pristine.

She sat by the window but she couldn't see outside; it seemed they stopped that too. Frenkin sat beside her, clutching her hand tightly. She didn't know when the strange habit had begun but it had become almost second nature for Frenkin to reach for her hand and she his whenever they were thrust into something new.

Isa sat on the other side of Frenkin, babbling away once more into what Stephanie had learnt was a phone.

The car pulled away silently and smoothly. Haymitch sat facing her; she felt his wary gaze on her. He probably thought she was going to act up tonight but Stephanie knew that she wouldn't. Tonight she would be the perfect Capitol doll.

The car slowed to a stop in what seemed like no time later. Haymitch got out first and then turned to help Isa out, and then Frenkin jumped out. Frenkin looked a lot older dressed up in Capitol style and without his glasses again; however he was still just a kid.

Haymitch glanced back. Stephanie was stalling. Looking around quickly Haymitch ducked back into the car. They locked eyes for a moment but no words were exchanged. There was no need…no point. She had to do this whether she wanted to or not.

She gave him a nod of understanding and he got out and helped her out of the car. Isa fussed over Stephanie and Frenkin for a moment.

Haymitch looked at her. She wasn't the girl who had dealt him a swift kick in the carriage in her boy's trousers and oversized shirt barely able to walk in the boots. Her hair falling unchecked about her shoulders, dark circles under her strange keen eyes and her face with its sharp angles and arching brows that just screamed that she was from a poor District.

Her hair had been tamed to fall in immaculate curls and waves down to her waist and a few glittery things secured one side of her hair back from her face; thankfully nothing like the contraption at the Opening Ceremony he recalled with an internal smirk.

The dress fit her like a glove plastering over any defaults in her physique. Her pale skin seemed to have taken on a gleam all of its own concealing the years of being hidden from the sun. However it seemed that no amount of powders could conceal the chiselled lines of her face that hunger had sharpened. Her eyes seemed even sharper accentuated by the dark make-up. Ficen had done an excellent job in making her look like a woman; defiant with bright painted lips and sweeping brows and snowy skin with balanced curves.

And yet Haymitch couldn't help but think how she looked even more vulnerable now than any of the times he had seen her faint or cry. To him she looked swamped; the glittering jewellery too bright and gaudy, her hair too pristine and perfect and lips an unnaturally bright scarlet red. She looked like a doll; a fragile one, one that could break.

…

The high-pitched crystal laughs reverberated off the marble walls. The party was beginning to warm up with a low murmur of conversation sounding around the room. Seneca Crane, Head Gamemaker for his fifth year running glanced over at the clock. The tributes would be arriving soon. For the hundredth time he congratulated himself on a truly ingenious idea.

All around the cameras were rolling waiting patiently for the arrival of the tributes. All the Capitol had wanted to attend the party but Seneca made sure to only allow the finest in.

"Are you really serious Seneca?" the woman beside him said, giggling insistently.

Seneca lounging languidly in a white leather chair turned to her, a crystal glass of champagne in his hand, "But of course Selwa dear; out in these Districts they look at us in awe. Most of them could never even begin to fathom how to act in a civilized manner and live in the Capitol, so tonight shall be full of amusements," Seneca answered smoothly, ice blue eyes glancing over the woman for a moment before dismissing her.

The woman dissolved into another fit of tinkling laughter and Seneca excusing himself swiftly made his way over to one of the tables.

"Ah Seneca, they should be arriving soon," a man in a dark green suit began discreetly when Seneca reached him.

Seneca scanned the huge doors where people were gathered in eager anticipation.

"Yes, the cameras are positioned correctly Wirin?" Seneca checked. The man named Wirin nodded; the orange streak in his hair gleaming brightly.

"How do you think tonight will go?" Wirin asked sipping daintily on his glass of champagne.

"Spectacularly of course," Seneca answered, a smug smirk pulling at his lips, "the whole Capitol goes mad over those few minute interviews with Flickerman, think what they will be like to see this. They practically are doing the interviewing themselves."

"How will you have them arrive?" Wirin asked.

"In order of their Districts. It is better as such, the 'Career' Tributes first are not as likely to be intimidated as the outer Districts. It wouldn't be good TV to have the first tributes to appear on camera to be shaking with fear," Seneca answered with a short laugh. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the Capitol guards slip silently and discreetly into the room and mingle with the crowd. That could only mean one thing.

A Capitol official appeared at the top of the stairs where the doors where. The crowd gathered at the bottom turned to him expectantly.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Capitol may I present to you the Tributes from the Twelve Districts of Panem of the 100th Annual Hunger Games and Fourth Quarter Quell."

…

"Remember to smile and whatever you do, do not fall down those stairs in those shoes," Haymitch's words were rushed in Stephanie's ear as they made their way down the long hall. Her arm was looped through Haymitch's as he guided her along as she once more struggled in her shoes.

She nodded numbly. Isa led the way authoritatively and once more Frenkin was clutching her other hand. Suddenly they halted when they came across a Capitol official.

"Tributes straight ahead for registration, all else this way please," the woman gestured to a hallway that branched off to the right.

Panic made Stephanie weak and her grip on Haymitch's arm tightened even further until the satin of his black jacket was twisted and creased between her pale fingers.

Haymitch pried her fingers gently from his jacket, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze before dropping it and then with a last pointed look he turned right.

Stephanie felt an almost helpless wave of emotion come over her threatening to crush her until she saw Haymitch's expression when Isa latched onto him and then she couldn't help but smile and the sensation of Frenkin holding onto her hand tightly filtered through her panicked haze.

"What do you suppose it'll be like?" Frenkin asked.

"I don't know," Stephanie answered truthfully. Stephanie looked in front of her; she spotted the girl with the glossy black hair and the boy in the purple suit as they were being registered.

"Is this really necessary?" she asked in a bitter tone as they pricked her finger, a ruby red drop swelling to the surface before they pressed it to the page.

The woman looked at Stephanie with a shocked expression; the woman most likely had never been outside of the Capitol.

Stephanie pulled her hand away harshly before joining the line once more; refusing whatever ointment was being administered.

Frenkin was staring at his pricked finger in awe.

"What is it Frenkin?"

"It's gone," he held his hand up to her.

"The ointment," Stephanie figured after a moment.

"Why do we have to be registered for? And why is your finger still bleeding then?" Frenkin rushed his questions together and Stephanie couldn't help a small chuckle.

"It's in case by some miraculous happenings we have managed to escape and replace ourselves with convincing doubles,"

"That's stupid," Frenkin said.

"Yeah it is," she admitted, straightening his bowtie.

"Here," Frenkin said and suddenly he forced a crisp white handkerchief into her hand.

"Thanks," Stephanie replied softly. She knew it was stupid not taking the ointment but she was too stubborn to go back now and so she wrapped her finger as discreetly as possible in the cloth. It was only a pinprick anyway she thought.

Suddenly there was a chorus of cheers and the double doors in front of them swung open.

**As promised Seneca appeared however he has yet to meet Stephanie so...stay tuned :D!**

**And review...! A few quick words only takes a moment! **


	17. Fresh Air

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

**HGH; Thanks for your kind review as usual :)**

**Aly91; Thanks for the review and don't worry I have something special planned ;) haha**

**Chapter Seventeen; Fresh Air**

Haymitch entered the vast room and was grateful when Isa bounded off somewhere. The woman had a grip like vice.

He lifted two glasses of champagne and downed one immediately ditching the empty glass on a nearby table. Haymitch went to stand near the back of the room so that he would have a good view of the doors which had just opened.

A small girl bounced in first with a wide smile and beside her a somber looking boy with a shock of fair hair. The boy briefly made Haymitch think of an older version of Frenkin but when the boy in the suit smiled smugly he discarded the idea.

Next was a tall girl in a long pale pink dress and dark blonde hair that just brushed her shoulders. She waved at the crowd with a flirtatious wink and even blew a few kisses. The boy beside her had jet black hair and had swaggered in casually with his hands in his pockets and an almost bored expression on his face as if this whole thing were beneath him.

Then there was Stephanie and Frenkin.

She glided out somewhat uncertainly looking at first overwhelmed. Her golden gaze swept over the room for a moment; he had no idea if she had seen him or not, and then she broke into a dazzlingly smile. Frenkin beside her remained serious with his wide eyes but that was enough as the women had already began to coo over him.

A moment and then they were gone as they descended the stairs and Haymitch released a breath he didn't know he had been holding and swiftly made quick work of the second glass of champagne.

Haymitch walked over to the crowd and after the initial chaos that had ensued quietened down he was able to catch Stephanie's wrist and Frenkin by the back of his collar. He half-dragged them over to a secluded part of the room; well as secluded as it could be in a crowded Capitol room.

"Right Frenkin, Isa will take you over to some of the women and I will take you sweetheart around the room," Haymitch began.

Stephanie and Frenkin just stared dumbly barely even registering Haymitch's words as they took in the room.

The entire walls were made of glass that gave a complete circular view of the city below. The room was modern and stylish with soft lights and a chrome spiral staircase that lead to a second level. A cool breeze entered the room from the many balconies.

As if on cue Isa immediately came over and dragged Frenkin off to a group of middle-aged women at the other side of the room.

…

Stephanie obediently slipped her hand into the crook of Haymitch's elbow when he offered his arm to her and allowed him to support her and guide her.

She resisted the urge to run as those around her stared at her without restraint and grinded her teeth together as she caught wisps of some of the comments being exchanged of shock and disbelief that she actually could be considered pretty.

Haymitch placed his other hand over hers around his arm and she loosened her grip with a muttered "Sorry."

She glanced around; some of the other tributes were already in the midst of gathered Capitol people with cameras trained on them. Stephanie felt a tightening in her stomach as she glanced at the girl with glossy black hair speaking with ease to those surrounding her. 'I will never be able to do this' Stephanie thought.

Suddenly a waiter passed them and Haymitch slipped his arm from hers to lift two glasses of champagne.

"Here," he forced one glass into her hand.

Stephanie stared at it in shock.

"I've never drank alcohol in my life," she hissed as Haymitch finished his.

"It will help settle your nerves, one glass won't hurt," he assured.

She hesitantly rose the glass to her lips and took a long drink.

She swallowed the fizzy liquid after the initial alarm that her mouth was somehow exploding and felt warmth begin in her empty stomach.

Haymitch dragged them over to three men and a woman who seemed to be staring at them expectantly.

"Oh Abernathy darling I never got the chance to thank you. You see at the 90th Games I accidently bet on you and well as you know no one expected you to win so when you did I won quite a lot," the woman burst into laughter as did the three men.

Stephanie was about to interject when she heard Haymitch laughing and he gave her a look and so she laughed too.

"Happy to help Miss," Haymitch said, a charismatic tone to his voice that he had never used in her company before.

Stephanie shot him a look, eyebrow arched before finishing off her glass of champagne. 'It is quite nice once you get over the need to snort' Stephanie reasoned as the liquid began to warm her stomach.

The woman burst out laughing again and Stephanie was about to do likewise, thinking it was like last time, when Haymitch nudged her.

"Oh Abernathy you dog..."

Stephanie's head shot up ready to protest but Haymitch had a huge grin on his face.

"You flatter me. I am no Miss, I'm too old to be considered a Miss anymore, these three boys are my sons," the woman appeared to be very flattered.

Stephanie stared at the woman; the faint lines and the thinning lips furthered the woman's statement.

"Yes Haymitch, wha…" Stephanie began to agree with the woman but never got to finish because Haymitch conveniently stepped on her foot.

"Champagne?" a deep voice came from Stephanie's right. It was one of the woman's sons. He had dark red hair that was immaculately styled. He was offering a glass to Stephanie.

Remembering manners just in time, Stephanie took the glass from him, "Thank you ever so kindly," she said in a sugary tone; she imagined she could almost hear the audible sigh of relief from Haymitch.

A band started up music somewhere nearby.

"Oh Abernathy you must introduce us to your newest prodigy," the woman continued.

Stephanie resented being referred to as a prodigy.

"Don't you mean human sacrifice?" Stephanie said under her breath and took a large sip of her new glass of champagne.

"What dear?" the woman said.

Haymitch cut in, "She said how are you tonight? You know how it is being in the presence of Capitol people such as yourself can be overwhelming, can leave one from a little District such as she speechless."

"Hhhmph," Stephanie took another gulp of the champagne and Haymitch glared at her for a moment.

"This is Stephanie Trindlesworth; the District 3 female tribute," Haymitch said and placed his hand on the small of her back, half pushing her forward to present her, half nipping her in warning.

"Well Miss Trindlesworth how are you finding the Capitol?" Stephanie had never been called anything so formal in her eighteen years and it took her a moment to realise that the red-haired son was speaking to her and even then it was only because of Haymitch nudging her.

Taking another drink of champagne she began, remembering her rehearsals with Haymitch, "It is really wonderful, everything and everyone are so sophisticated and as my mentor Haym…Abernathy says it is quite overwhelming for one such as I from a little poor District," the words almost choked her and she took another long drink of champagne in an attempt to quell her wounded pride.

They seemed pleased with her answer.

"Right so dear, right so," the woman answered. "I am Sylva Landa, these are my sons, Dess, Araf and Harron," the woman gestured to each of her son's, identifying the one with the red hair as Dess. "I also have a daughter called Selwa; I have no idea where she is at the moment though," Sylva said, glancing around the room.

"Perhaps Abernathy you would be so kind as to take my mother that way looking for Selwa and Miss Trindlesworth and I will go this way," Dess said offering his arm to Stephanie.

Stephanie was about to point out that the room wasn't really that big and it didn't take two search parties to be sent out to find this 'Selwa' when Haymitch practically shoved her towards Dess.

She righted herself deftly and turned in time to shoot daggers at Haymitch before slipping her arm into Dess'.

Stephanie was about to ask what Selwa looked like so she would be able to spot her when Dess directed her over to a table where he stopped.

"So Miss Trindlesworth the Capitol impresses you?" Dess asked as he replaced her glass with a full one.

Stephanie looked at it sceptically for a moment, wondering if it was such a good idea.

"Yes, it is most impressive. It is such an honour to be here," she replied with a smile.

Dess seemed more than willingly to bask in praise and Stephanie resisted the urge to slap him and wipe the smirk from his face.

"May I call you Stephanie? And of course you may call me Dess?" he asked.

"Of course Dess," she said and smiled sweetly. Stephanie nearly dropped her glass when out of the corner of her eye she spotted a camera trained on her. Trying her best to act casual she took another sip from her glass.

"So what is it best you like about the Capitol?" Dess asked.

"Oh I couldn't possibly choose, it is all just so…breath-taking," Stephanie said.

Dess gave a loud laugh, "Yes it is, it is indeed. I could never understand how you could survive in those dingy little Districts," Dess said.

'Calm! Calm! Calm…calm. Slapping him now would not help you in the long run. Where the hell are you Haymitch?!' Stephanie's thoughts raced as she tried to think up an acceptable answer, taking another drink to disguise her hesitation.

"Yes well we from the Districts are such simple people. We could not even dream of the life that people like you Dess lead," she managed eventually.

Dess gave another laugh and moved closer to her, one arm snaking around her waist. Stephanie could smell his cologne, it was burning her nose. 'Did the man bathe in it?' Stephanie thought resisting the urge to choke.

"I quite like you Stephanie, perhaps I could show you more of the Capitol?" Dess whispered in her ear.

'Well Haymitch can't complain too much. One person likes me,' Stephanie thought as she downed her third glass of champagne. Dess lifted the empty glass from her hands and she allowed him to direct her through the crowds.

Her head was starting to feel a bit fuzzy and thoughts were becoming a little less clear, also her co-ordination with heels had become even less functional if that were even possible she thought.

Suddenly just as Stephanie realised they were heading for the exit someone took her hand and she stopped.

"Your sister Selwa is with your mother," Stephanie recognised Haymitch's voice. She turned around, Haymitch's grey eyes were burning fiercely.

The grip around her waist was gone in a second.

"Perhaps another time Stephanie. After all you are here for a month," Dess said. Stephanie barely registered his words and looked up in time to see Dess making a direct line for one of the other tributes in a pale pink dress. And then Haymitch appeared before her.

He focused on her eyes for a moment.

"Dess likes me," she blurted out.

"How many glasses have you had?"

"You are the one who gets drunk, not me,"

He sighed and looping his arm around her waist to support her brought her once more to the exit.

"Where are we going?" she voiced.

"To get some fresh air," he answered and even though his tone was angry Stephanie caught the look of amusement flash across his face.


	18. Caught

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

**HGH; I don't know, but if you were thinking what I was thinking when I was writing this then yes he was about to do what you were thinking...haha; **

**Chapter Eighteen; Caught**

"This isn't fresh air Haymitch," Stephanie scowled as he once more splashed her with cold water.

"I know," he said grimly.

One minute he had been promoting Stephanie as a brilliant tribute and the next he had seen her pass by with Dess making a beeline for the exit. Needless to say he had quickly excused himself and stopped them before they made it there. Dess not wanting any fuss quickly moved on to some other tribute.

Haymitch had no doubt that Stephanie was still clueless about the whole thing. He felt anger well up in him again and a new feeling, of protectiveness for Stephanie.

…

Stephanie dried her face with the towel he gave her and looked in the mirror. The make-up hadn't budged much to her astonishment. Then she thought back to the silver make-up from the Ceremony and how it seemed easier to strip paint from a wall than get it off her face.

Sighing she turned to Haymitch glancing about her a bit sheepishly. She still felt a little fuzzy but the ice water had brought most of her senses back.

Haymitch was smirking.

"You are never going to let me live this down, are you?" she said crossing her arms.

"You bet darling. Never more can you check me," he said with a smug look.

She scoffed.

"Go on. I can find my own way back," she said. Haymitch glared at her.

"No, you come back with me now," he said.

"No. I can find my own way back," she replied.

"You are impossible,"

"You sound like Ficen,"

"I can go get Ficen right now,"

Stephanie shuddered.

"Fine. But give me a few minutes," Stephanie admitted defeat.

"To do what?"

"To think!"

"You can do that while we are making our way back up the stairs,"

"Haymitch go away! I will come back,"

"Ha! You couldn't run if you tried darling there are guards everywhere,"

"I wasn't going to!"

"Fine then sweetheart, if you really want you can sulk down here for as long as you want. I am going up to promote Frenkin because he is at least trying," Haymitch said and left her standing.

After kicking the air in frustration she waited a few moments until she was sure Haymitch had really went back up. A part of her was disappointed that he hadn't come back but she still slipped silently from the room and turned in the opposite direction they had come.

She descended another flight of stairs until she came to the ground floor. She looked right; there were at least a score of guards at the entrance. She was being truthful with Haymitch, she wasn't trying to escape, and she knew the opportunity would never rise anyway. But more importantly she knew what the Capitol would do to Haymitch, Frenkin and her family if she did. And besides where would she go?

Sighing she veered left, careful to keep to the shadows until she came to a large patio. The double doors at the back opened out to some sort of enormous greenhouse. She could already feel the humid air begin to cling to her.

…

"So what District are you from?" Seneca asked, not bothering to conceal the tone of boredom in his voice.

The girl in the long pale pink dress and short dark blonde hair had been popular since she arrived.

"I'm Lana Blackell from District 2," the girl replied flicking her shoulder length hair.

Seneca thought for a moment.

"Peacekeepers," he finally commented.

"Yes my three older brothers and father are Peacekeepers. I volunteered to participate in the Hunger Games," the girl replied confidently.

'Well she wastes no time in singing her praises' Seneca thought.

"Congratulations…What's your opinion of the Capitol?" The question was a common one and he knew that all of the tributes had rehearsed answers.

"It is spectacular…" Seneca zoned out for the rest of her answer allowing his gaze to scan the room. He had nearly spoken to all of the tributes; except for both from Districts 3 and 4 and the boy from District 11. The camera crew wanted good shots of him with each tribute.

He registered that the girl beside him had stopped speaking. He glanced over and looked at her for a moment. The girl was very pretty he conceded. "Fine," he said and then walked off.

Next he talked to a tall tanned girl with curly mid-length hair from District Four called Slena. The girl impressed him with her quiet determined nature. She said the rehearsed sentences but with no air of pretence. It was evident she did not find the Capitol spectacular. Her District partner was younger than her and was without her determinacy however the boy managed to hold it together to speak with him. District Eleven's boy was strong and Seneca immediately made a note of him.

Now he was having a conversation with a very scared boy with oversized glasses. The boy named Frenkin spoke so quietly sometimes he had to strain to hear him; however the boy's quiet nature only seemed to make him more endearing to the women around him.

"Where is your District partner?" Seneca demanded, feeling the start of a headache coming on.

The boy looked up at him with wide eyes, "M..my district partner?" Frenkin repeated.

Seneca felt irritation claw at him. "Yes," he said through gritted teeth.

"I don't know," he replied.

Seneca pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Seneca Crane, oh it is an honour to meet someone as talented as you. I am Isa, escort for District 3,"

Seneca looked up briefly. "Well Isa if you wouldn't mind showing me to the female tribute for District 3."

Isa looked at him dumbly for a moment.

"She is with her mentor," Isa replied.

With a frustrated sigh Seneca gave up and quickly made for the exit.

…

Stephanie peeked casually into the greenhouse; it had overlapping vines and the such all around it and generally looked unwelcoming. However the patio was quite cool and she collapsed gratefully unto one of the comfy seats, propping her burning feet up on one of the tables.

Just as she was getting comfortable Stephanie heard footsteps. Approaching footsteps.

Not having time to think Stephanie scurried into the greenhouse, knocking a vase over and was just able to hide herself in time behind some vines. A man appeared at the entrance to the patio glancing around it sceptically.

"Who's there?" he called out.

'Damn,' Stephanie thought. She glanced in the opposite direction and wondered if there was another exit but then discarded the idea; no doubt if there was it would be guarded.

The man hadn't made to move on but instead entered the patio, his gaze locked on something.

Stephanie peeked out. What was it he was looking at?

She gulped hard. The smashed vase.

However unstable shoes combined with the fact that she had had a few glasses of alcohol for the first time on an empty stomach made Stephanie a little unsteady. And with a few curse words Stephanie fell and hit the floor and out of the safety of her cover.

She looked up frantically to lock eyes with a pair of ice blue ones.

**Cliffhanger...because I'm cruel (mwahaha :D) **

**Don't forget to review :)**


	19. Honest Opinions

**Disclaimer; I don't own blah blah blah**

**HGH; I know I'm cruel heehee**

**Philippa; Aww thanks ever so much, it's reviews like this that make me write faster :D I hope that you continue to enjoy :)**

**AN! I added a little AU Fact to my Fanfic; Seneca is President Snow's son (I know they have different surnames but ssssh :P)**

**Perspective jumps about a bit in this chapter; Haymitch then- Seneca then- Stephanie**

**Chapter Nineteen; Honest Opinions Confessed to a Dishonest Listener**

Haymitch glanced around the room uneasily. Stephanie still hadn't come back yet as she said. Haymitch cursed under his breath and resisted the urge to down another glass of champagne and go get her.

'It is Stephanie's fault that I am still sober' he thought bitterly. 'If she isn't throwing disapproving looks and kicks then she is doing something like fainting that requires me to be sober so I can stop her from hitting the floor…Or even better yet her latest antics where she herself is getting drunk! Ha; and then nearly gets carted off by some…" Just as Haymitch's thoughts began to cloud over with anger and a strange protectiveness Isa popped out of nowhere.

"Haymitch!"

"What?" he growled.

"Where is Stephanie?" Isa demanded eagerly.

"She will be back soon, she is freshening up,"

"Seneca Crane– Head Gamemaker was looking for her!"

Haymitch made no answer but his grey eyes immediately hardened and gleamed dangerously, his jaw rigid as his expression became notably darker.

"Oh Haymitch pet look; whatever grievances you have with Seneca forget them for now. We need to find Stephanie and quickly,"

Haymitch ignored Isa and pushed by her making for the exit.

'Seneca Crane' the name was like acid on his tongue.

…

"Who are…you - you are one of the tributes! Aren't you? You must be the District 3 girl - what are you doing here for goodness sake?" recognition dawned on Seneca.

The girl got up quickly, brushing the dirt from her scarlet dress.

"I got lost," she replied after a moment.

"And what the greenhouse looked like the way to the party?"

"I wanted some fresh air,"

"It's a greenhouse, not a garden,"

"I'm not blind!" the girl suddenly slapped a hand over her mouth, horror clouding her golden eyes. Seneca stared for a moment at the odd colour. This only seemed to make the girl more uncomfortable.

Deciding to have a little fun Seneca continued.

"Well I'm in charge of this greenhouse. I used to be from District 1 but I was taken here after the Capitol seen my skills with gardening,"

The girl's eyes flickered up to meet his; uncertainty in them.

"You are from the Districts?" she asked hesitantly.

Seneca nodded dumbly, extending a hand to her.

Her eyes narrowed as she observed him, slipping her hand into his.

He led her over to one of the long sofas and sat down pulling her down beside him.

"So you are the District 3 girl?" he asked.

"Yes…" she began. "But how did you know?"

"Hhm?"

"How did you know?" she repeated.

Seneca thought fast. "I recognised your face from the Reaping videos," he answered smoothly.

She seemed a little relaxed but she still observed him sceptically.

"You don't dress like a gardener," she finally commented.

Seneca gave a little laugh and shook his head. "I was at the party,"

"Why would they invite a gardener from the Districts to a grand party?"

Seneca faltered for a moment. "I know the Head Gamemaker; he was feeling generous,"

"You know the Head Gamemaker – How?"

Damn she was persistent Seneca thought but still it was almost amusing.

"I tend to his father President Snow's gardens. His father is very fond of roses,"

She seemed satisfied for a moment and dropped her accusing gaze.

"How odd," she said.

"What is?"

"That a murderer would like something so beautiful and full of life as roses,"

"You think him a murderer?"

"Of course!" she cried indignantly. "Our people are sacrificed and made to endure horrible deaths for our families to watch for their entertainment!"

"You do not like the Capitol?"

"Dislike isn't strong enough a word," she replied dangerously.

Seneca wasn't naïve - he knew that the Districts disliked the Capitol. Why wouldn't they? The Capitol had everything. They had nothing. But no one had been brave enough to say it to his face, even if the girl currently was under false assurances.

"What do you think of the Capitol?" the question had been the most common one that night and yet he knew the answer that would be given would be far from common.

"I hate it. They destroy all that is good and I don't mean just for the Districts. How can they raise their children under the pretences that enslaving others so that never have to work for anything is good and that murder is nothing but a game?"

That definitely hadn't been something Seneca was expecting. He felt something like admiration for the girl.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"Stephanie Trindlesworth, and yours?"

However Seneca never got to answer for just then someone appeared at the patio and Stephanie leapt to her feet.

"Haymitch!"

…

Stephanie had never been so relieved to see Haymitch in her whole life.

However the smile was quickly wiped from her face when Haymitch entered the room with a murderous dark look on his face and grabbed her arm possessively; half dragging her away.

She was about to protest when she was interrupted.

"Haymitch Abernathy, 90th Hunger Games Victor, I thought you would be dead by now," the man behind her began to clap slowly and mockingly.

She ripped her arm from Haymitch's grasp and wheeled around to face the man.

"What do you mean?" she demanded angrily.

A sudden realisation dawned on the man's face.

"Oh don't tell me Stephanie that Abernathy is your mentor?" he asked incredulous.

"Stephanie," Haymitch warned sternly but Stephanie ignored him.

"And what if he is?" she asked.

"I was beginning to believe that you might actually have a fighting chance," he answered amused.

"What does that mean?" Stephanie fumed.

"Stephanie!" Haymitch called her sharply.

"My dear Stephanie I must confess I was quite beginning to take a liking to you. But you see I haven't been entirely honest with you, I'm not from District One and I am no gardener. I am Seneca Crane the Head Gamemaker and I will be responsible for your death," Seneca had a smug smile on his face.

Stephanie saw red in those moments. She was angry at herself for being so stupid and falling for his charade and in those moments she did what she normally and very unwisely does.

She lunged for Seneca but as her arm rose to deal him a swift punch, Haymitch's hand caught her wrist.

"I never thought I would see the day that Haymitch Abernathy would protect me," Seneca said and then he let his gaze fall on Stephanie.

"You are quite attractive when you are in a little rage. We will have to speak again sometime soon," Seneca said and then brushed by them both and out of the patio.

Stephanie gulped hard but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't swallow her anger or her tears. They sprung from her eyes and she raised her one free hand to cover her face in shame.

'How could I have been so stupid!' the words burned in her mind as Haymitch released her wrist.

She turned to Haymitch.

"I'm sorry"

He shook his head and pulled her into a tight embrace, rubbing her back soothingly as she clung to him.

"That is the last time you are ever drinking," he said after a few moments.

She laughed despite her tears.

"What was all that about with you and him?" Stephanie asked, pulling back slightly.

"It doesn't matter now," Haymitch said, pulling her tight against him once more and brushed a kiss on her right temple.

**What's the problem between Haymitch and Seneca? :O ...stay tuned. **

**And review? :D Especially about the perspective changing style. Obviously when I'm writing from a character's perspective it only includes things that the character would know, e.g. Stephanie's at the start she doesn't know who Seneca is and so during her perspective Seneca is referred to as 'the man'. I just want to clear that up or if anyone thinks that it's getting confusing or whatever just let me know ? **


	20. History

**Disclaimer; I am not Suzanne Collins, ; ;**

**HGH; I know, I know this chapter will be kinder :D or will it? :O mwahaha**

**Philippa; Thanks so much and you'll have to keep reading ;) - and I hope this chapter is clearer :) **

**babydake93; Thanks for the review and all, I hope you continue to enjoy; I update daily :)**

**Chapter Twenty; History**

_(Seneca's POV)_

Seneca climbed the stairs feeling rather pleased with himself.

He hadn't been lying - he had taken quite a liking to Stephanie and regrettable as it might be to kill her she was after all only a tribute.

To find out that Haymitch Abernathy of all people was her mentor had sweetened the bitter medicine so to speak and he entered the hall once more, without his headache and a smug smile.

…

_(Haymitch's POV)_

Haymitch remained holding Stephanie tightly.

'Of all the people why him?' Haymitch thought bitterly as he slowly released Stephanie from his arms. Haymitch couldn't help feeling even more protective over Stephanie now as the thought entered his head of how he had already sealed her fate now that Seneca knew he was her mentor.

"We better head back up," Haymitch said, once more offering her his arm.

…

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie entered the vast room once more with Haymitch. The party was really in full swing now. Music was loud and the lights were even lower.

Stephanie could just make out Dess dancing with the tribute in the long pink dress. Glancing over she saw Frenkin surrounded by a couple of women fawning over him.

They descended the stairs and Haymitch handed her another glass of champagne. She stared at him incredulous.

"You have got to be joking!" she exclaimed.

"I don't mean for you to drink it sweetheart; it will stop others from offering you a glass."

She accepted the champagne, twirling the stem of the crystal glass between her fingers as she stared at it distrusting.

Haymitch immediately led her to another group of people where pleasantries were exchanged and Haymitch promoted her. Stephanie couldn't help but feel completely mortified as Haymitch blatantly exaggerated her non-existent talents while she was right there. However after another re-run with another group and then another and then another the embarrassment wore off to be replaced with something like boredom.

Finally they stopped at one of the tables and setting the still full glass down on it Stephanie walked out onto a nearby balcony, welcoming the cool night's breeze.

She had never felt so exhausted in her entire life and walking had never been so painful. Leaning on the rail she slipped the shoes discreetly from her feet as Haymitch joined her.

Haymitch was looking below at the city. He was unusually quiet and looked pensive.

"So…" Stephanie began.

His grey gaze snapped up to meet her.

"What was that with you and Seneca?" she continued determinedly.

"It doesn't matter Stephanie," he answered quietly.

She had a feeling that it mattered a lot and was about to beat Haymitch if necessary to get the answer out of him.

New music started up inside and a smirk began to play on Haymitch's lips.

"What?" she asked suspiciously nudging him.

He gave a small laugh and turned to her.

"Want to dance sweetheart?"

She laughed then outright, forgetting all about previous worries for a moment, before facing him. "Why not," she answered, slipping somewhat regretfully back into her heels.

He led her back into the room, her hand fitted securely in his.

Suddenly just as he was about to move another step she hauled him back by the hand.

"Sweetheart that isn't dancing," he said eyeing her curiously.

"I just remembered something," she replied panicked as people began to start to dance to the music.

"What?"

"I can't dance," she hissed.

Haymitch smirked and she dealt him a swift punch to the shoulder before pretending to smooth his jacket to cover it up for the cameras.

"Just follow me," he attempted to move again but she pulled him back.

"I can't,"

"Sweetheart, trust me…Stephanie,"

She met his eyes for a moment and then nodded mutely.

A few moments later and she was dancing; well as best she could in heels.

"Now see is this so bad?" Haymitch teased as he almost practically held her up.

Stephanie pretended to look displeased before answering him. "No," she conceded.

"See I told you this party would be alright…after the initial shaky start," he commented and he twirled her gently.

"Shut up and just don't drop me," she said with a laugh.

"Well sorry sweetheart but I'm having to half-drag you across the floor and pretend it's dancing,"

Stephanie looked horrified. "Please don't tell me it is as bad as that,"

Now Haymitch laughed and she couldn't help but laugh with him.

"No, no it's not sweetheart," he said after a moment.

Stephanie gave him a grateful smile. "Have you really never danced before?"

"No," she admitted with a frown, "it wasn't exactly a priority back home," she said nudging his shoulder slightly in annoyance.

"Hey!" he squeezed her waist tightly, "how come you always end up attacking me?"

"Attacking? That's a bit far,"

"Fine, fine. Physically assaulting me in some manner,"

"You always seem to go out of your way to annoy me,"

"Well I suppose I can't complain"

"What?"

"The attacks got less and I got a kiss instead,"

She glanced up at him through lowered lashes and felt her cheeks burn up. 'This is new' she thought; of all the things Haymitch had made her feel, embarrassment hadn't been one of them. She opened her mouth to reply.

"Abernathy, mind if I cut in?"

Both Stephanie and Haymitch turned to face the direction of the voice.

Seneca Crane.

Haymitch's grip on Stephanie tightened ever so slightly and his jaw set rigidly.

"Come on Abernathy, do you really want to make a scene?" Seneca asked smoothly.

Stephanie eased herself from Haymitch's grasp. He didn't exactly make a move to stop her but he didn't release her willingly either.

Seneca smirked.

"What?" Seneca demanded when he and Stephanie had been dancing for a few moments and all she had done was scowl at him silently.

"Oh I'm sorry was I meant to strike up a conversation?" she asked sarcastically.

"You do know I am Head Gamemaker?" he asked clearly unperturbed by her sarcasm.

"Would you like a medal?" she bit back.

He gave a short laugh until suddenly she stepped on his foot.

He frowned at her.

"Ever so sorry," she said sweetly.

"You are ever so amusing and quite attractive," Seneca said.

Stephanie grinded her teeth together in annoyance.

"What is your problem with Haymitch?"

Seneca's cool façade faltered and his icy blue eyes trembled for a few moments.

"Let's just say history…past grievances," he finally said, and his voice was unusually quiet.

The music stopped and a smug smirk returned to Seneca's lips. With his finely styled beard and sleek jet-black hair accompanied with icy blue eyes he was the perfect Capitol gentleman.

"Well Miss Trindlesworth…Stephanie, I am sure we will be seeing more of one another before long," he said smoothly.

Out of the corner of her eye Stephanie saw Haymitch approaching them.

She barely registered his movement before Seneca had placed a cool chaste kiss on her cheek and then stalked off with a short laugh in the opposite direction.

Haymitch reached her and looked at her with concerned eyes.

"That's it Haymitch! You are telling me what the deal is?!" Stephanie demanded angrily.

Haymitch dragged her off by the elbow onto one of the secluded balconies.

"I am being used as a pawn in some game that involves you and Seneca. He is using me to get back at you! What is it that happened?" Stephanie demanded.

Haymitch glanced up at her, already protests forming in his eyes.

Stephanie shook her head vehemently. "You tell me now Haymitch."

**Cliffhanger because yes yes I'm evil (sorry HGH :P) ...XD Don't forget to review. And I hope the POV thing is clearer now :)**


	21. End of Comradeship

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

**HGH; Woaaah - erm... sorry? I'll try and contain the cliffhangers but not completely because I like them;**

**Philippa; Glad to hear it :) I'll do the POV thing from now on :D **

**Chapter Twenty-One; End of Comradeship **

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Another few hours and Stephanie was practically limping. The night was finally over and they were making their way back to the car.

She glanced at Frenkin; his eyelids were drooping and he could barely keep awake. Feeling a surge of emotion for the boy Stephanie draped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him tight against her, dropping a quick kiss on his fair hair. A few of the locks had sprung free and keep falling into his blue eyes. After a moment Frenkin threw his arms around her waist and they walked the last little distance to the car like that.

Frenkin gave a large yawn before clambering into the car, "It wasn't so bad…but I will never understand Capitol people," he admitted. Stephanie gave a small chuckle and climbed in after him, collapsing with a sigh onto the cream seats.

After a few moments of waiting under guard, Stephanie heard his footsteps approaching and then Haymitch ducked and got into the car. He immediately sat beside Stephanie; Isa had gone off gallivanting and left note that she would see them in the morning. Stephanie didn't want to give the implications of that too much thought.

Stephanie glanced across at Frenkin with a motherly smile; he was curled up on one of the seats, eyes shut and sleeping soundly.

The car pulled away silently and Stephanie leaned her own head back against the soft leather of the seats allowing her eyes to slide shut.

After a few moments with her eyes still shut she spoke calmly, "Do you still believe I can win now?"

She heard the rustle of movement from beside her where Haymitch was seated but he remained silent.

She smiled sadly.

_(Haymitch's POV)_

…

The car stopped and Haymitch gave Frenkin's shoulder a gentle shake. Frenkin woke with a start.

"Hey kid, it's only me," Haymitch reassured.

Frenkin attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes before he got out of the car and waited for Haymitch and Stephanie.

Haymitch glanced over at Stephanie. She appeared to be asleep.

He gently sat beside her. Some of her make-up had finally smudged and the colour on her lips had faded slightly. One of the silver hair pins had become dislodged and a few unruly locks of hair strayed across her face tickling her nose. He smirked as she wrinkled her nose in displeasure before he pushed them back from her face allowing his fingertips to linger for a moment on her cheek.

The movement caused her eyes to open slowly. At first they looked at him in confusion and then a whole tirade of emotions entered the golden orbs that prevented him from being able to distinguish one emotion from another.

She sat up and stretched slightly and then realising her surroundings, got out of the car followed by Haymitch.

They walked back to the building where the Tributes stayed, in silence. Frenkin dragging his feet while the sporadic clicks of Stephanie's heels on the smooth ground testified how she was struggling still in her shoes.

"Wait," Stephanie said suddenly. Haymitch turned and Frenkin continued walking a few paces before he realised and halted.

Haymitch looked to her questioningly. Stephanie raised her arm and draped it around Haymitch's shoulders before she lifted one leg to slip the death-trap shoe from her foot and then the other. Haymitch held her by the waist for support until with a sigh of contentment she stood in her bare-feet.

"Everytime I am around you I end up with no shoes on," Stephanie said with a bemused smile.

Haymitch gave a small laugh.

They stood like that for a moment. Neither Haymitch nor Stephanie willing or desiring to remove the arm around the other, finding that they liked the comfort that they drew from each other's simple gesture. They were snapped back by Frenkin's loud yawn as he stood waiting patiently and then reluctantly Stephanie's arm slipped from around Haymitch and his from her.

Haymitch bypassed the kitchen, knowing full well that he wouldn't need alcohol to find sleep tonight; exhaustion would be a more than adequate sedative.

He shrugged the jacket from his shoulders and undid the top few buttons of his shirt, revelling in the ability of being able to breathe again.

Haymitch walked up the hallway, pausing outside Stephanie's door; however when he opened it, she wasn't there. He listened and the sound of muffled voices came from across the hall. Frenkin's room.

_(Stephanie's POV)_

…

Stephanie tucked the blankets in around Frenkin as her mother had done to her when she was younger back home.

Frenkin yawned again widely, struggling to keep his eyes open.

"S..Stephanie?" Frenkin's voice was timid and tired.

"Yea?"

"I…I never got to tell you that you looked…" Frenkin's eyes fluttered closed softly and Stephanie gave a small smile, combing her long fingers through his honey-coloured hair.

Frenkin's eyes opened again, determined to finish his sentence. She titled her head slightly, a small smile dancing on her lips. "Tell me what?"

"You looked very beautiful tonight," Frenkin said and then gave a toothy grin, pleased that he got it out.

Stephanie felt a twinge in her heart, "You looked pretty dashing yourself," she replied.

Frenkin gave a soft laugh, his wide blue eyes shutting once more as he succumbed to sleep.

She was so lost in counting Frenkin's steady breathing that she almost jumped out of her skin when Haymitch spoke.

"The kid's right you know,"

She got up and turned around. Haymitch stood leaning in the doorway, silhouetted by the light from the hall.

"Right about what?"

"You looked very beautiful tonight,"

Stephanie felt herself blushing and looked down.

"What's this? Where's the swift boot to my nether regions or the snarky comment – don't tell me that's a blush I see," Haymitch teased, as he approached her.

Her head snapped up to look at him, one eyebrow arched challengingly.

"Come any closer and you will find out," she replied, folding her arms with a smirk.

He laughed lightly pausing less than a metre away from her, his hands dug in his pockets.

Their eyes met for a brief moment and a seriousness entered Haymitch's features.

"I'll sort everything with Seneca," he reassured her.

She shook her head, "I don't think you can," she replied.

"I'll make sure he gives you a fair fighting chance,"

"Seneca Crane is Head Gamemaker not to mention President Snow's son, there is nothing you can do. He has decided that I will die,"

"No. I won't let you die just so he can punish me. The year I won my Games I went against the rules by using the forcefield to my advantage. The Head Gamemaker Lark that year suffered the same fate as my family; President Snow had him killed as a warning to others who came after him, that the Capitol would never be bested. That Gamemaker Lark was a mentor to Seneca; someone he looked up to and admired and respected. Someone Seneca loved like a father, after all how much of a father could someone like President Snow be? Seneca blames me still for Lark's death and so he has made sure that I have lost everything. It is no coincidence that the past five years since Seneca has been Head Gamemaker that District 3's tributes have been killed in the most brutal ways,"

"How can you appease Seneca?" Stephanie asked sadly, tears welling in her eyes as she felt the pain and pity she felt at hearing again all that Haymitch had lost. Haymitch had threatened to throw her over the balcony back at the party when she had learnt of this for the first time because she couldn't stop her tears.

"I will find some way," Haymitch insisted, clenching his fists tightly.

Stephanie just nodded, too exhausted to even argue with him. She made to pass by him when he grabbed her arm fiercely.

Stephanie almost shied away from the intensity of Haymitch's grey gaze.

"I will not let you die," Haymitch's words were low.

"I am a tribute for the Hunger Games. You do not get to decide," she replied harsher than she intended, trying to twist her arm free of his grasp. She was tired and her frustration was growing.

He gazed at her for a few moments and then, without warning his lips crashed upon hers. Stephanie's eyes widened for a few moments, and then Haymitch's lips moved against hers; hot and insistent yet undeniably soft and her eyes fluttered shut.

This was definitely no kiss of 'comradeship' was Stephanie's final thought.

**Well there you go - explanation :) that's not really a cliffhanger is it? Anyway review and give me your thoughts...do I use too many cliffhangers? :S **


	22. The 16th Hunger Games

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

**HGH; Haha; I know :P No worries :)**

**Phillipa; I read your idea and I was raging because I had already written the next chapter and hadn't even thought of it but believe me I will be including it somewhere haha; so keep an eye out for it :P Haha; don't worry Seneca isn't all bad, like you say we don't know everything about him yet so ...keep reading. :D**

**; Not a really eventful chapter, bit cheesy :P but enjoy anyway :D **

**Chapter Twenty-Two; The 16****th**** Hunger Games**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

A whining sound ringing in Stephanie's ears was the first thing to wake her as sunlight began to filter through the curtains and make dancing patterns on her closed eyes.

Groaning she turned over and knocked the alarm clock to the ground. She still didn't know how to turn it off and found that simply dropping it usually did the trick.

With a satisfying thud the alarm clock fell silent and Stephanie opened her eyes.

Stephanie slipped from the bed and ran into the bathroom, thinking to get a shower to give her time to organise her thoughts before going to breakfast.

The warm water washed over her shoulders easing the tension from having to keep her shoulders and back straight all last night. Ficen had been sending her glares when she had tried to slump and relax for a few moments and so she felt like a plank of wood was attached to her back all night. Thankfully Ficen hadn't bothered to approach her and actually Stephanie couldn't remember seeing her after the Seneca incident.

The Seneca Incident. That was all she had dared to call it. When Seneca had practically told her that she would die no matter what in the arena, and then of course Haymitch vowing that she wouldn't and later then…then the kiss.

Stephanie allowed her fingertips to brush against her lips as she recalled it, a faint dusting of pink colouring her cheeks. 'Oh how I wish I could ask Weisna for advice right now,' Stephanie felt a familiar pang at her heart as she longed for home and her family.

"Well Haymitch Abernathy it's you who has to do the explaining now."

_(Haymitch's POV)_

…

Haymitch was sitting in the living room, an untouched bottle of vodka on the table in front of him.

He had one arm draped over his eyes, so he couldn't see Stephanie when she entered the room, but he could hear her and he felt the sofa beside him go down when she sat down next to him.

The scent of vanilla drifted to him and he peeked at her from under his arm.

Her hair was wet and she was drying it with a towel, staring off into the distance.

As if sensing his gaze on her she turned to look at him.

"What was the kiss for sweetheart?" she couldn't help smirking when she said it and he gave a small laugh shaking his head.

"Comradeship?" he offered.

She laughed lightly, a few droplets of water running down the curve of her neck. She fell silent after a moment, and she looked at him, waiting.

"I guess I like you more than I thought," Haymitch said simply.

She smiled softly at him and her eyes seemed to brighten for a moment.

"And what about you - I don't exactly remember you offering much protest?" he prompted.

"I guess I like you more than I thought too," she replied, dropping the towel into her lap.

Then Isa appeared to disturb the moment.

"Breakfast!" Isa announced cheerfully and then upon seeing Stephanie gasped loudly. Isa scurried over to her and whipping the towel from Stephanie's hands began to scrub Stephanie's head with it.

"Ah ISA! Your nails are like claws," Stephanie said trying to duck out of Isa's grasps.

"Well maybe if you would use the hairdryer to dry your hair," Isa replied, seeming a little offended that Stephanie had referred to her nails as claws.

Stephanie shifted a little. "I don't like the hairdryer."

Isa of course didn't think this a viable excuse and stalked off with her nose in the air.

Getting up to follow her Stephanie paused at the arched doorway.

"Aren't you coming for breakfast?" she directed her question to Haymitch.

Haymitch passed her with a smirk after catching her frown when he backtracked to collect the bottle of vodka from the table.

_(Stephanie's POV)_

…

After breakfast it seemed that Stephanie couldn't get out of having to watch the footage of past Hunger Games.

She reluctantly seated herself between Frenkin and Haymitch. Isa was still annoyed at her and had made a fuss about sitting beside her until Frenkin had swapped.

"Well what year do you want to start at sweetheart?" Haymitch asked nonchalantly flicking on the TV with the remote.

Stephanie threw a glare at him, regretting eating so much at breakfast; painful reminders of her last occasion flashed across her mind.

"Any preferences kid?" Haymitch directed his question to Frenkin after Stephanie had remained silent.

"16," Stephanie said quietly.

Haymitch glanced at her curiously before with a few button pushes the 16th Hunger Games came to life on the screen.

First off it was the Reapings. Districts One and Two. Then District Three.

It was a male escort for District Three for the 16th Hunger Games; he had jet black hair that made her thoughts involuntarily go back to Seneca for a moment.

Then the voice of the escort sounded clear, "Sam Trindlesworth," a young boy; younger than Stephanie, with thick blonde hair stepped forth determinedly. The camera focused in on him and Stephanie caught a glimpse of the eyes she had inherited from her ancestor who was Victor. Looking at the resigned stance of the boy on screen, one would never imagine that he would go on to be Victor.

"Trindlesworth?" Haymitch repeated quietly, turning to her.

Stephanie looked at him out of the corner of her eye; her throat suddenly felt tight.

"My great great grandfather," she answered his questioning gaze.

Understanding registered on Haymitch's face and Stephanie returned her gaze to the screen as the Reapings continued.

She felt it first, a slight clumsy nudge that she thought nothing of. And then Haymitch took her hand in his firmly and securely. She squeezed his hand tightly as a sign of gratefulness glancing down to see her fingers entwined with Haymitch's. She looked up at him but his gaze was trained on the screen as the Reapings drew to a close.

The videos were brutal and she felt like she was wearing a permanent grimace as she blanched at the sheer ruthlessness. But everytime she felt like just leaving the room she would feel Haymitch's hold tighten ever so slightly radiating warmth, reminding her that he was with her. 'But you won't be there in the arena' Stephanie thought sadly.

_(Haymitch's POV)_

…

As if sensing what she was thinking; after all Haymitch had been there himself, he turned to her.

Frenkin's eyes were as wide as saucers as he tugged nervously at the hem of his shirt, twisting the material between his hands.

Isa of course was oblivious, gazing at the screen and providing the appropriate 'oohs and aahs' when a tribute died.

Haymitch watched Stephanie carefully, her jaw was tensed and her eyes were glazed, her pupils trembling slightly.

"Sweetheart…" Haymitch whispered softly.

Stephanie flinched a little; startled, but she didn't turn to face him, her eyes trained as her great great grandfather went in for the winning kill.

Haymitch lifted his other hand and forced her to face him.

Stephanie's eyelashes were already damp, her features strained with holding back.

He gave her a weak smirk. The sounds of fighting could still be heard. He traced her lips with the pad of his thumb stopping her from instinctively turning her head at the sound of the kill blow.

Out of the corner of his eye he caught Frenkin staring at him with an unreadable expression but the boy quickly looked away with reddening cheeks when Haymitch glanced at him. Isa was thankfully still oblivious; preparing her applause for the end.

"I thought I needed to watch this," Stephanie said weakly.

"There are other Games you can watch," he replied quietly.

She nodded in silent thanks, leaning briefly into his hand before the sudden sound of Isa's applause brought them back to reality.

"I present to you the Victor of the 16th Hunger Games, District 3's Sam Trindlesworth!" the commenter's voice boomed across but Stephanie didn't look around. She didn't need to anymore.

**That jumped about a bit :P Anyways review; even if its only a few words :D **


	23. Dinner Dates

**Disclaimer; I do not own the Hunger Games**

**Sorry, sorry, sorry ...sorry? Life got in the way, I'll try and make it up somehow :)**

** HGH; Look out for your suggestion in the upcoming chapters ;) & thanks.**

**Phillipa; Thanks (x2 :P) and then Perhaps you will like this chapter? :P**

**A reader; Thanks for the review, I hope you continue to enjoy :) **

**Chapter Twenty-Three; Dinner Dates**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

They watched a few of the other games after that and Stephanie noticed that Haymitch tactfully avoided his own games despite the choosing meant to have been at random.

The last thing they watched was the announcement of the Fourth Quarter Quell; their Games that had yet to come.

President Snow stepped forth to the podium with a sealed white envelope and a clear '100' marked on it.

Stephanie clenched her teeth as he opened the envelope with an almost bored expression.

"To show the Districts that no matter how long a rebellion may last that the Capitol will always win the Hunger Games will be extended," a cheer went up from the crowd and Stephanie swallowed down the nausea feeling.

The television screen went blank and Haymitch dropped the remote on the sofa.

"It didn't mention anything about the training being extended?" Stephanie realised turning to Haymitch questioningly.

Meanwhile Isa was receiving a call and after alerting everyone in a five metre radius of herself with her incessant squeals went off to take said call.

"No. That was his son's idea," Stephanie noticed that Haymitch couldn't even say Seneca's name.

She looked around at Frenkin who avoided her gaze and was unusually quiet.

"Why?" she pressed.

"It's like I said before for longer Games you need more tributes to survive for longer; so his son came up with this idea. You're lucky they didn't come up with some quack idea like mutating you to make you stronger,"

Stephanie looked at him horrified and Haymitch swigged generously from a vodka bottle.

"I'm going to get a glass of water," Frenkin suddenly piped up and then he rushed from the room. Stephanie stared after him with a puzzled expression.

"Poor kid," Haymitch remarked.

"Yea watching the Games must have really scared him," Stephanie added, biting her bottom lip.

"I'll go after him," Stephanie said and then getting to her feet headed for the kitchen.

Frenkin was just filling up a glass of water when she reached him.

"Hey Frenkin," she prompted.

He turned to her beginning to greedily gulp down the water.

She waited until he was finished watching him with concerned eyes.

He didn't meet her eyes instead glancing sheepishly about him.

"You alright?" she asked softly.

He nodded vigorously, a few blonde locks concealing his eyes.

Without a second thought Stephanie pulled him into a hug, ruffling his blonde hair.

He didn't protest and was silent and then she felt the dampness at her shoulder where his face was pressed against.

She gently pushed him back to meet his eyes that were rimmed with tears.

She gave him a weak smile; after all what words of comfort could she offer him?

Just then they heard the sound of something smashing and Haymitch cursing wildly; exchanging worried glances Frenkin and Stephanie rushed back into the main room.

Isa was standing with her hands on her hips and her face a mask of pure horror.

Stephanie looked over at Haymitch; his bottle of vodka smashed to smithereens on the floor.

"What the heck happened?" Stephanie demanded.

Isa started to snivel. "Well I was just coming in to tell you all about this afternoon's events and…and," Isa trailed off and Stephanie turned to Haymitch crossing her arms sternly and an eyebrow arched.

"It was a knee-jerk reaction," he replied, "a bit like you sweetheart."

She rolled her eyes.

"What is the 'event'?" Stephanie asked a little bitterly.

Suddenly finding herself the centre of everyone's focus seemed to cure Isa and she turned to them with a bright smile.

"Well out of all the elite sponsors last night; you and Frenkin will be lucky enough to go out with some of them. Well every tribute will be going with their selected sponsor, "

Stephanie and Frenkin both looked at her in complete confusion.

"You have just won yourself a lunch with the highest bidder sweetheart," Haymitch elaborated.

Stephanie felt anger swell up in her, "Why does it always sound like I am being bought?" she asked with as much calmness as she could muster.

Haymitch just shot her a look, that clearly warned her not to push him.

"Fine," Stephanie said gruffly folding her arms.

"Who are we having lunch with?" Frenkin inquired sensibly. Stephanie feeling very immature dropped her stubborn stance and turned to Isa once more.

"Well Frenkin you will be having lunch with dear Mrs Ara and her two friends," Isa replied and Stephanie just caught Frenkin's barely contained shudder.

"I don't remember meeting them," Stephanie realised.

"That's because you didn't sweetheart," Haymitch answered.

"Well then I have a chance to make a good first impression," Stephanie thought aloud.

"No," Haymitch replied bluntly. Stephanie arched an eyebrow at him questioningly.

"Isa dear would you do the honours of elaborating," Haymitch said sarcastically, again to Isa's oblivion.

"Well Stephanie pet you will be having lunch with Dess," she said.

As recognition dawned on Stephanie's face Haymitch got to his feet seeing the tell-tale signs of anger begin as Stephanie's jaw tightened and she clenched her fists.

How am I meant to sit through a whole lunch with that arrogant prig?!

_(Haymitch's POV & Stephanie's POV)_

…

A few hours later and Stephanie was dressed up in a flowing deep blue dress and to her utter dismay and Haymitch's amusement a pair of silver high heels.

"This isn't funny," she had complained when Haymitch had dropped by to see her progress.

He met her eyes in the mirror she was standing in front of.

Haymitch felt a feeling of apprehension come over him. The dinner date would be Stephanie by herself with Dess. He was worried that with Stephanie's snarky remarks and pride that it would be a disaster and without him to kick her under the table to stop her.

Then there was another feeling about letting Stephanie have dinner with someone like Dess.

"You have to watch what you say,"

"Yea, yea I know," Stephanie replied dismissively, tugging at her hair.

"Stephanie," Haymitch's tone was serious and she turned to face him.

"You have to be careful," Haymitch warned gently.

Stephanie gave a sharp nod feeling panic rise up in her.

Haymitch watched her for a few moments as she began to tear up a little, trying to hide it by twisting the material on the front of her dress.

Haymitch sighed and then walked over to her and with a brisk tug of her wrist pulled her into a tight embrace.

Stephanie didn't cry this time she was just frustrated.

"I'm going to mess this up aren't I?" she groaned.

He smirked and gave her waist a reassuring squeeze.

"Maybe keep talking to a minimum," he recommended and they shared a small laugh.

"Shut up," she pulled back a little to look at Haymitch.

"What?" he asked when she remained silent.

She shook her head slowly but her eyes were trembling slightly. "I don't know what if I mess this up or hit him and the Capitol arrest me and torture me and my family and you an…" Haymitch silenced her panicked rambling pressing his lips against hers.

She froze for a moment before relaxing into him, her fingers sinking into his sandy hair to angle his head and get as much as she could out of the kiss.

His lips moved against hers with deliberate slowness, until the last knot of tension left her rigid back.

They parted and she leaned her forehead against his, her eyes fluttering open dazedly.

"What was that for?" she asked quietly.

"I told you not to speak much sweetheart," he said with a smirk.

"Yea, well I just hope Dess doesn't try the same technique," she said, leaving his arms to smooth down her dress in the mirror again.

Haymitch clenched his jaw tightly.

"He better not," Haymitch answered darkly. Stephanie immediately noticing the change in Haymitch's demeanour turned to face him.

"Of course not," she reassured with a small smile. She made to pass him when he grabbed her wrist roughly. Stephanie turned to face him with a ready frown when she seen the look of his face.

Her eyes were burning fiercely, mouth set in a firm line. He looked conflicted and there was almost a pleading to his features; his grip on her wrist slackened but he still held her in place firmly.

Distantly the sound of Isa approaching sounded to them as she hummed away to herself.

Stephanie glanced at Haymitch once more before flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely for the few moments they had before tearing themselves apart as Isa rounded into the room. Stephanie and Haymitch stood, shoulders brushing as Isa inspected Stephanie approvingly.

"Ready pet?" Isa asked finally, green eyes bright as usual, dusky skin glittering softly.

"Ready," Stephanie answered, and as she made to follow Isa she felt Haymitch grab her hand behind their backs and give it a tender squeeze.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and give him what she hoped was a reassuring smile before they both followed Isa.

**Once again sorry about that very late update...hope you enjoyed, maybe let me know with a review? :)**

**Sorry if the last POV was a bit confusing it jumped about a bit between Stephanie & Haymitch.  
**


	24. Things Amiss

**DOUBLE UPDATE! - Make sure to read the previous chapter XD **

**Chapter Twenty-Four; Things Amiss **

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Due to each tribute having their own 'dinner' to attend, Frenkin and Stephanie had to travel in separate cars.

She gave Frenkin a brief hug, giving him a light peck on the cheek for luck though she was sure she was the one who needed the most of it.

After receiving a reprimanding look from Alba, Frenkin's stylist for apparently 'destroying the perfect symmetry of Frenkin's blazer' with her 'manhandling' of him Stephanie sighed and got into the car.

Before the door closed she caught sight of Haymitch's tight expression. He gave her a brief smile though she could see it in his eyes that he most certainly didn't feel like smiling at that moment.

The car door shut with an affirmative thud and the sound of it being locked and then they were on their way.

Stephanie felt incredibly small and cold in the car that seemed so empty with just her in it.

_(Haymitch's POV)_

…

Haymitch watched the car pull away, trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in his chest.

Dess? Of all the people! She had ended up with that scoundrel. At least seeing as the dinners were being recorded there was no chance of Dess trying anything.

And of course Stephanie would be more aware this time of the 'effects' of drinking.

He sighed deeply, able to steady himself just in time as Isa latched onto his arm.

"Oh our little pets are off to dinner," Isa babbled dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

Haymitch merely threw her a dubious glance after ten years working with Isa it was pretty hard to be surprised with anything that she said anymore.

Along with the gnawing anticipation somewhere distantly Haymitch felt a slight twinge of jealously but he scoffed at it.

The circumstances came crashing down around Haymitch making themselves painfully clear.

Stephanie was a tribute for the Hunger Games and he was her mentor. What they were doing potentially put her life at risk. If Seneca knew then he would make sure that Stephanie would die in the most painful way just so he could watch it.

Haymitch knew he couldn't bare it to have Stephanie's death on his hands, knowing that it was his fault personally not the Capitol and the Hunger Games but his.

He swallowed hard as Isa talked on about how she thought the dinners would go. Haymitch concluded that he would have to have another 'chat' with Stephanie when she returned.

_(Stephanie's POV)_

…

By the time the car had slid silently to a stop, Stephanie was shaking, a cold sweat breaking out all over and this time there was no Haymitch to reassure her.

The door opened abruptly and Stephanie knew that the guards would not wait on her. She gave in and exited the car on shaky legs. Two guards were waiting to escort her into the building.

She could barely look up at it instead glancing around almost desperately to try and catch a glimpse of Frenkin, knowing that just the sight of the boy that had grown so familiar to her would settle her nerves enough. But there was no such luck.

She was ushered along impatiently and brought into a lift. She stumbled twice and the second time the guard didn't remove his hold around her upper arm after stopping her from falling, holding it slightly raised so that she almost had to walk on her tip-toes.

When the guard released his hold on Stephanie in the lift she dried her palms on the front of her dress plastering on a wide smile as the lift doors opened silently.

The sight that greeted Stephanie unsettled her greatly. The room was wide and low lit with many white clothed tables set up. The décor of the room was varying shades of reds and someone clearly didn't know the saying that 'less is more' from the looks of the amount of white roses everywhere.

She saw Dess sitting at one of the tables a few feet away by the window smiling smugly at her.

But it wasn't that which unsettled her.

The place was empty. There was no one else here except for Dess sitting at the table set for two.

Dess motioned for the two guards to leave and they complied.

Stephanie swallowed hard. Where was the camera crews? How had this happened?

What am I meant to do now? Stephanie thought frantically.

"Stephanie do please sit," Dess motioned to the other seat as he stood.

Sporting a confident smile Stephanie attempted to still her knocking knees and glide over to the table.

"May I say that you look absolutely stunning," Dess said placing a less than chaste kiss on her knuckles that lingered for a bit longer than Stephanie liked.

Stephanie would have blushed furiously if someone had of made that remark to her but the fact that Dess was looking at her as if she were a joint of meat he was about to eat lessened the effect greatly.

She was able to smile sweetly back and thank him, taking her seat as he pushed it in for her and then taking his own.

Stephanie fixed the napkin the way Isa had shown her, busying herself with anything and everything to escape having to look at Dess.

She was about to ask about the camera crew or rather lack of when Dess beat her to it.

"I bet you are wondering why we have been left all alone," he said.

Stephanie glanced up at him. He was leaned towards her, elbows on the table, fingers laced together underneath his chin, looking at her with a self-indulgent smirk.

She feigned ignorance, looking about her casually as if she hadn't noticed.

"Have they not arrived yet?" Stephanie cursed silently when her voice wavered a little.

"They won't be arriving for another long while say a few hours at least," he answered, the smirk growing wider.

Stephanie began to wring the napkin between her hands nervously.

"Oh?" was all she could muster in response. She restrained herself from dealing Dess a kick under the table, because for once her fear was greater than her anger. Never before had she been in a situation like this.

"Yes it was all arranged in advance. It cost a lot of money to pay off all the necessary people. You know to convince to arrive a little later,"

Stephanie was silent as the colour drained from her face.

Dess leaned back suddenly just as Stephanie thought she couldn't take any more of his smirking and would smack him.

Dess stood and began to don his coat and gloves that had been on his chair all along unnoticed by Stephanie. Stephanie looked up at him in confusion.

"A lot more money than I could afford. But don't worry we will have our dinner later on," Dess said, finishing buttoning up his coat.

Stephanie was close to outright panic. "What do you mean?" she demanded and was for once pleased that her voice sounded as angry as she felt.

Dess looked at her disapprovingly already making to walk away.

"I couldn't afford to arrange all this dear Stephanie," Dess said and with that turned on his heel making for the lift.

Stephanie gulped hard. Someone had paid off all those who were meant to be here right now including Dess convincing them to come later.

Stephanie was lost in the panicked haze of her own thoughts glancing up just as Dess disappeared behind the lift doors.

"Well what shall you have dear?" Stephanie whipped around in her chair to be met with Seneca Crane's clear blue eyes as he stared at her amused over his menu.

**Don't forget to review! :)**


	25. Dining with the Enemy

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

**schrisham; Thank you :) I might try the duel POV thing again**

**Philippa; Weren't expecting that? Haha; **

**Chapter Twenty-Five; Dining with the Enemy**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie knew she must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights as she stared at the man sat facing her.

Seneca however appeared to be completely ignorant to her growing temper instead idly looking over the pristine menu in his hand.

"What are you doing here?" Stephanie managed through gritted teeth.

Seneca discarded the menu and glanced up to lock eyes with her, a slight smirk pulling at his lips.

"Having dinner with you of course," he replied smoothly.

Stephanie strangled the napkin in her hands. "Why all the unnecessary theatrics?" she demanded. Finally her fear at finding herself alone with Dess had gave way to the anger she felt at how clearly amusing Seneca found terrifying her. But then after all he was a Gamemaker.

"Whatever do you mean?" he inquired innocently.

"Why did you arrange this little private dinner?"

"I am Head Gamemaker I am not meant to be 'fraternising' so to speak with the tributes, so therefore it had to be private," he answered.

Stephanie crossed her legs and in the process dealt Seneca a swift boot to his shins. 'He has decided he is going to kill me anyways – what difference does it make' Stephanie thought angrily.

Seneca was caught unawares and scooted his chair back noisily staring at her for a moment in disbelief. However he then schooled his expression into a scowl and finally one of amusement as he pulled his chair once more into the table.

Stephanie glared at him, her arms folded crossly across her chest.

"You do realise I am Head Gamemaker and I control how you die in the arena?" he asked arrogantly.

"You mention it enough times every time I have met you – that it is quite impossible to escape the fact!" her voice rose a few octaves as her cheeks became a little flushed.

He gave a short laugh at her outburst before calling in the direction of the double doors near the back of the room.

Immediately a waiter approached their table and pouring them each a glass of wine left the bottle and then returned to the kitchen.

Stephanie stared at the dark liquid in the glass thinking how it looked so very much like blood.

_..._

_(Seneca's POV)_

Meanwhile Seneca watched Stephanie carefully over the rim of his glass.

"Now then," he began. Her eyes snapped up to glare at him, burning fiercely and narrowed dangerously.

Seneca found that he enjoyed teasing her a lot more than he should. He was constantly surrounded by people who were ready to bow and scrape at his every whim it was entertaining to see her reactions.

He couldn't help having admiration for her. Many would have been on their knees begging him to spare them but here she was dealing him kicks and insults.

"What will you have to eat?" Seneca asked her gesturing for her to pick up the menu to her right.

"I have suddenly lost my appetite," she answered sharply, knocking the menu to the ground.

He smirked and called once more for the waiter.

The waiter stared at them a little curiously before a sharp glance from Seneca had him trembling.

"I will have the Chef's Special," Seneca said, handing the menu to the waiter.

"And the lady?" the waiter asked hesitantly.

Seneca scoffed at the term lady.

"Nothing," Stephanie spoke firmly.

The waiter loitered for a moment longer unsure until Seneca glared at him and the waiter scurried off.

"You really should have ordered something, the food in here is delicious…though perhaps the food is a little rich for someone like you," he said, folding his arms casually.

She arched an eyebrow at him and he could practically feel the anger radiating off her.

"So Stephanie are you enjoying your stay in the Capitol?" Seneca asked sarcastically.

He felt her answer more than heard it and he tried to discreetly rub his shin where she had dealt another kick.

"Apologies a clumsy district girl like me," Stephanie said with zero sincerity before taking a large gulp of wine.

He caught her grimace as she sat the glass back down quickly.

"Taste not agree with you dear?" he inquired.

"Oh no, the taste captures perfectly what I think of the Capitol – perfectly…revolting," she smiled sweetly.

"I thought a little alcohol would loosen you up a bit. Dess told me that you were practically swimming in it at the party,"

_..._

_(Stephanie's POV)_

This time Seneca caught her ankle as she made to deal him a swift kick. She tugged fiercely but he held her fast, tracing patterns over the bare silky skin.

She gave a cry of indignation snapping herself free and upsetting the table and losing her shoe as she did so.

Her glass of wine tippled over and as the bloody red stain spread rapidly towards her Stephanie suddenly felt nauseous. She looked to the balcony doors desperately only to find them shut.

She stood suddenly and feeling rather silly with only one shoe on slipped the other off and stalked over to the balcony doors.

She flung them open hastily, thankful that they weren't locked and went outside welcoming the cool breeze that rushed over her.

"You can't escape that way," Seneca called to her in a bored tone.

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "I don't think taking a nose dive to the pavement is the best escape plan," she snapped back.

She heard him laugh behind her as he began to approach her.

Stephanie clenched the railing tightly until her knuckles had turned white as Seneca came and stood beside her.

"You know it would be in your best interests to be civil at least to me," Seneca said looking at her.

She scoffed at him. "The day I lower myself to such standards, is the day I become no better than you,"

_..._

_(Seneca's POV)_

Seneca who had been wearing an expression of amusement suddenly felt the expression fall.

"I am from the Capitol and you are from the Districts," Seneca stated vehemently.

"And I am still better than you, everyone in each District will always be better than you and your kind," she replied fiercely, sparing the railing her wrath and turning to face Seneca fully.

Seneca's hand twitched as if he were going to strike her and then stilled.

Stephanie hadn't moved an inch as if she were expecting him to hit her, and then prove her point that she was better than him.

Seneca turned around as someone politely cleared his throat behind them.

The waiter had cleaned up the spillage and was waiting with Seneca's food. Ignoring Stephanie Seneca stalked back into the room and sitting down briskly began to eat.

The waiter needed no nod of dismissal this time and hurried off back to the kitchens.

"Sit down," Seneca ordered harshly.

Stephanie whirled around to face him, hands on her hips defiantly.

"Your ill-placed pride and high morals might not allow you to take orders but perhaps if I were to threaten the lives of those a little closer to home," Seneca warned.

Stephanie's cool façade faltered and a strangled cry escaped her throat.

Seneca smirked victoriously.

Stephanie complied silently and took her seat once more though the whole time her gaze bore into Seneca.

Seneca pretended not to notice continuing to pick at the food in front of him. He found however that he had suddenly lost his own appetite.

Seneca had been refused very little in his life and he hated that here this 'mere tribute' was able to vex him so much.

Pushing the plate away from him harshly, Seneca locked eyes with her; icy blue meeting molten gold in a battle of wills.

"I can make it that your sister will not live to see her child safely into this world," Seneca said cruelly.

Stephanie practically lunged across the table at him but stilled herself just in time as tears began to rim her eyes.

Seneca felt slightly better that he had some control over her now but he was still annoyed that he had to resort to such low tactics. It seemed to only prove her point that she was better.

But just as quickly as that her jaw tightened and her eyes hardened, burning dimly and dangerously. "I can make it so that you will not be able to torment Haymitch by deliberately killing off his tributes. I will make it so that you will never be able to be Head Gamemaker again," her voice was low.

Seneca looked at her incredulous and despite himself he couldn't help the complete admiration that seemed to be ever-growing for her.

Seneca gave a bitter laugh. "Really?" he teased.

Stephanie gave a small and dangerous smile. "Yes you remember Haymitch's games don't you? What happened when he thwarted the rules,"

Sudden recognition dawned on Seneca's face. "I control the Games."

"You do not control me," Stephanie replied.

Stephanie's reference to Haymitch's Games brought unwelcome memories flooding back for Seneca. Of a boy that could only watch in horror as a man he held as dear as a father to him was dragged away and put to death, knowing that he could do nothing to stop it. He blamed Haymitch because he could never blame who was really responsible – his real father, President Snow.

"You seem fond of Haymitch," Seneca spat while his thoughts drifted elsewhere.

Something flickered across Stephanie's face, some restrained emotion that for a moment was allowed to be seen, in the softening of her eyes and the slight dusting of pink that claimed her cheeks.

The look caused Seneca to do a double-take as he realised that his statement held more truth than he knew.

"You **are** fond of Haymitch," Seneca enforced.

Stephanie made no reply but he could see the stark panic in her eyes as she tried to think of an acceptable and safe answer.

"Well, well…" Seneca began wickedly, ice blue eyes blazing.

Stephanie looked at Seneca and for the first time he saw an almost pleading expression claim her features.

"Yes? Something you would like to say to me?" Seneca taunted.

Her bottom lip trembled for a moment and then Seneca gasped sharply in shock as his head snapped to the side when she slapped him.

Seneca stood abruptly and dragged her up to stand in front of him, holding on harshly to her upper arms, his fingers curled so tightly around that it was painful, his cheek still smarting.

Stephanie showed no signs of being in pain instead staring up at him though her eyes betrayed some of the fears she felt.

"How long have you been blaming Haymitch for what your own father did? Haymitch didn't kill Lark. Haymitch was just trying to survive your cruel games. Your father killed Lark," Stephanie's words were harsh and true, her eyes burning fiercely.

Seneca held her tightly for a moment longer before releasing her and shoving her away from him. Stephanie righted herself and rubbed her arms.

She watched Seneca cautiously through lowered lashes as Seneca seemed to be staring off into space.

He moved and Stephanie turned her back to him quickly but he didn't approach her and in fact Stephanie heard his footsteps growing distant.

Stephanie glanced around just as Seneca disappeared into the lift.

**Remember to Review please :) ? **

**I think the last POV might have switched to Stephanie's near the end but I didn't think it was enough to say it was her POV also;?**


	26. Thank-you

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

**HGH; Haha; :) glad to be back and thanks **

**Philippa; That's what I thought too and thanks :)**

**Chapter Twenty-Six; Thank-you**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Seneca had only been gone for a few moments before when the lift doors opened again out spilled the long-lost camera crew and their assistants and various other people and then behind them Dess who although he looked confused was also undoubtedly pleased.

Stephanie could barely concentrate on what she was doing and she stumbled over her words and made other such errors numerous times much to the annoyance of those around her.

After a few tiring hours and picking at food that looked more like paintings on a plate rather than food it was over and Stephanie trudged over to the lift, taking a circuitous bypass to avoid Dess and his amorous attentions.

She made it to the lift and was able to make her way down in silence accompanied of course by two Capitol guards.

The car was waiting out front promising a safe haven to transport her back to Haymitch.

She climbed gratefully in and collapsed onto the leather seats and the door was closed swiftly and locked.

The car made to pull away when it was stopped suddenly and the door was unlocked.

Stephanie panicked for a moment, what if Seneca decided that he wanted to arrest her for what she said?

However there was no guard there to haul her out but rather someone came into the car and that someone was Seneca Crane himself.

Stephanie inhaled sharply as the door was closed once more and locked and the car pulled away silently.

Seneca sat facing Stephanie, eyes fixed on her face, but it wasn't the harsh glare that she had received earlier but rather an almost curious look. She felt uneasy.

Seneca noticing her uncomfortable shifting turned his gaze to look out the window despite them being blackout ones.

Stephanie didn't feel like she could take another confrontation with Seneca.

"What do you want?" she asked quietly, chancing a look up at him.

"Do you like Haymitch?" Seneca asked. Stephanie looked at him perplexed. The bitter tone that he had used before and the malicious glint in his eyes when he had first asked her was gone.

"Why do my feelings interest you?" Stephanie asked, side-tracking his question.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Seneca answered.

"Oh I see now; you are thinking up an extra painful death for me just so Haymitch can suffer?" Stephanie demanded bitterly.

Seneca looked at her for a few moments before he moved swiftly across to claim the seat directly beside her. His leg pressed against hers and she tried to scoot away from him but he grabbed her wrist holding her firmly and plus she had nowhere to move to.

She directed her gaze at his fingers curled securely around her wrist until he firmly tilted her head up to look at him, holding her chin tightly.

Stephanie glared at him with all the strength she could muster, his face was so close to hers, so close they were almost exchanging breaths.

"The fact that I am Head Gamemaker doesn't frighten you at all, does it?" Seneca asked, his eyes glancing over her face.

Stephanie swallowed. She feared him greatly, especially because he was Head Gamemaker but she was too proud to give him the satisfaction of knowing it. Stephanie remained silent thinking it was the safest option.

A smirk tugged at Seneca's lips at her silence.

"I promise I won't use your family against you if you tell me the truth?" he coaxed.

"And why would I trust you?" Stephanie asked.

Seneca smirked. His gaze drifted downwards towards her lips and Stephanie inhaled sharply.

The car stopped suddenly and it gave Stephanie the chance to tear himself from his grasp and make her leap from the car before the door was even fully opened.

The guard made a move to apprehend her thinking that she was trying to make a run for it.

She felt the familiar burning in her arm as it was twisted behind her back and she lost balance on her heels. She hissed as she felt a stinging on her knees when they came in contact with the ground.

In the few moments that it had taken for the guard to pin her Stephanie caught a familiar voice.

"HEY!" Haymitch shouted running towards them. In a few seconds Stephanie felt herself released and Haymitch helped her to her feet once more.

Stephanie was shaking; her nerves in the last few hours had been shot to hell. First Dess then Seneca with his threats and taunting and then again in the car – she didn't even know what to think of that.

Haymitch noticed her wide wet eyes and how pale she looked and immediately jumped to the conclusion that Dess was the cause for it. Ignoring the recklessness of the action Haymitch wrapped his arms around Stephanie; embracing her tightly.

Stephanie didn't object, just clung to him, her hands clutching his shoulders. He stroked her long silken hair, resting his cheek against the top of her head. And he could have sworn he felt his chest constrict when she pressed her tear-stained face further against his neck. He held her tighter feeling rage build up in him, and guilt…Haymitch felt he should have been able to protect Stephanie from Dess even though it was virtually impossible. He placed a few kisses on her hair feeling her trembling subside.

And as Stephanie looked over Haymitch's shoulder it didn't matter that the windows of the car were black-out. She could still feel Seneca's eyes on her and it terrified her all the more.

…

_(Seneca's POV)_

The car moved on at Seneca's orders. Seneca had entertained the thought of getting out of the car and alerting Haymitch to what had happened just to further hurt the man but there was something about the silently trembling girl in Haymitch's arms that stopped him.

From the brief encounter Seneca observed between Haymitch and Stephanie from the car it was evident to him that Haymitch cared for her.

He had felt jealously stir within him and scowled. How dare Haymitch have someone to care for and someone who cared for him? Seneca's thoughts were bitter. He resolved that the only way to destroy this and completely break Haymitch would be to kill Stephanie in the arena. He smirked thinking of Haymitch's reaction and yet…the jealously didn't go away. That only left the option - that he was jealous for another reason.

His thoughts drifted to Stephanie. He was currently conflicted over her. At one point he had never had this much admiration for anyone before, with the levels of corruption in the Capitol there hadn't exactly been an abundance of role models growing up for Seneca. Except for Lark. As Seneca's thoughts drifted to the man he cherished as his father Stephanie's words rang loud and clear in his mind.

She had been the only one brave enough to speak the truth to him. He couldn't even face it himself and yet even though she knew that he could have her whole family killed she had still said it. He pictured her standing before him defiant with her golden eyes blazing.

Seneca felt the strange urge to thank Stephanie.

**Bit short - next chapter will be longer :) **

**Drop me a review if you have the time :D I love hearing people's suggestions! **


	27. Close Calls

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

**HGH; Thank you :) **

**Philippa; Or does he? :O stay tuned :P**

**Thanks to Nessa Hawke and emickohania21 for the follows + favourites :) In fact thanks to all that have followed/favourited my story; Aly91, PastelMonster, Rachiesmile, Rey Abernathy-Rafkin-House, Yukira-Kuchiki, babydake93, gothicflower, schrisham and Hunger Games Hungry. XD **

**As promised - a longer chapter - This chapter is a bit of an emotional roller-coaster; enjoy :) **

**AN: I can't promise daily updates anymore but I will update as often as I can;**

**Chapter Twenty-Seven; Close Calls **

_(Haymitch's POV)_

_..._

The whole way up in the lift Haymitch had an arm secured around Stephanie's waist. He had half-expected her to faint right there in his arms but Stephanie seemed to calm herself down though she still remained deathly pale.

As the lift doors opened they both stepped out into the dimmed hallway and the sound of lively chatter drifted to them. It seemed to be coming from the main room.

Haymitch groaned as he remembered that Isa, Ficen, Alba and the rest of the stylists were currently gathered in the main room awaiting Frenkin and Stephanie's return to discuss how the dinners went and plans for tomorrow. Frenkin had arrived some time ago and it seemed that all had gone well for him. Haymitch was happy for the kid as Frenkin stood blushing under the praise he was receiving from all gathered.

Haymitch had waited patiently, expecting Stephanie to arrive soon. Haymitch couldn't deny that he was eager to see her again. She had looked pretty beautiful in her dress.

However the longer he waited the more apprehensive he felt. What was taking her so long? He had watched from the window for the car to pull up. The glass of alcohol went untouched in his hand. He didn't want to feel numb now and besides it felt as if no amount of alcohol would quell the rage building up in him. If Dess had harmed Stephanie in any way…! Finally he had used everyone else's distraction with Frenkin to escape for 'some air.'

He was pulled back to the current situation as Stephanie glanced at him with a panicked expression.

Haymitch turned to her and took her by the upper arms gently so that she would face him. However Stephanie flinched and he released her with a puzzled expression and with a trace of what he couldn't deny, hurt dealing him a swift blow.

"It is only Isa, Ficen and the other stylists," Haymitch said just above a whisper.

Stephanie seemed to be contemplating this information as she hugged her arms about her torso, her gaze averting him. Something that Haymitch was quick to notice.

"Go on to your room, I will tell them that you are exhausted," Haymitch said, reaching out to gently take her elbow to direct her to her room.

But Stephanie jerked away from him shaking her head vehemently. Haymitch's fingers curled closed around empty air. He ignored the hurt he felt and instead looked to her questioningly.

Stephanie was still avoiding his gaze however. "Isa may be easily fooled but Ficen I know for sure and perhaps some of the others will most definitely not, nor would they accept such an excuse," Stephanie replied.

There was a lull in the conversation down the hall as the occupants of the room no doubt heard Stephanie's voice.

Haymitch felt anger hiss through his veins for a moment. 'Why am I being treated so coldly?!' Haymitch thoughts raged.

However the gently brewing anger quickly froze over as his thoughts halted at a conclusion.

Stephanie started forward however Haymitch grabbed her wrist, wincing internally when she immediately resisted, trying to tug free of his hold.

He sought out her eyes.

"What did he do to you?" Haymitch asked, his other hand cupping her cheek so she couldn't turn her head away from him.

Stephanie's eyes widened in complete horror, and tears began to mist over her golden eyes that Haymitch had grown to care about so much. He felt his heart constrict at the thought that something had happened to Stephanie and he didn't protect her.

"What did Dess do to you?" Haymitch asked, his voice almost pleading.

Confusion filled Stephanie's face for a moment, stilling her tears.

"They have to be up by now, the car has gone already," light flooded the hallway accompanied by the impatient and irritated tone of Ficen.

Stephanie abruptly moved away from Haymitch as Ficen glared down at them.

Ficen eyed them suspiciously for a few moments as her eyes took in a pale Stephanie and a vexed Haymitch who now stood awkwardly beside one another.

Haymitch broke the tense air, "the shoes," he explained casually, gesturing to Stephanie.

Ficen didn't reply immediately, just turned her scrutinizing gaze on Stephanie though doubt began to filter across Ficen's face.

"Ugh! I haven't the time for this – she will never learn to walk gracefully," Ficen said and turned on her heel sharply to go back into the room and announce that they had arrived.

…

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie immediately followed Ficen, her heart beating wildly and almost painfully against her ribcage.

Pasting on a smile Stephanie stepped into the bright room, frowning slightly as her eyes adjusted to the lights.

Immediately Isa looped arms with hers, pressing a glass of something fizzing into Stephanie's hand.

"Now pet – tell us everything and do not spare one detail!" Isa demanded excitedly.

Stephanie suppressed the grimace, scouring her brain for anything.

"The restaurant was very pretty…there were a lot of white roses," 'Yes,' Stephanie thought – 'that's a safe thing to say.'

Stephanie chanced a glance at Haymitch only to find his eyes trained on her. She immediately dropped her gaze, grateful as Isa and Lashes had launched into a discussion on roses and which were the best etc.

"President Snow has wonderful roses," Lashes said.

"Yes and Seneca Crane I hear has some wonderful gardens too," Isa added.

Stephanie tried to control her reactions as Seneca's name crashed through her calmness. She already had had a close call when she thought that Haymitch had somehow knew what had happened, only that he went on to mention Dess Stephanie was ready to break down in his arms.

Isa broke through her thoughts. "What was Dess like?" she inquired.

Stephanie faltered for a moment. After Seneca had left she had barely paid any attention to Dess. Stephanie could practically feel Haymitch's gaze burning into her. 'If only you knew Haymitch,' Stephanie thought.

"A perfect gentleman," Stephanie answered.

This sparked another ripple of exchanged comments among the stylists and Isa on how nice it was to find a gentleman.

Stephanie nearly screamed when she felt someone touch her hand. She looked down into Frenkin's wide blue eyes that were filled with concern. 'Clearly I am not being as persuasive as I thought' and with that Stephanie glanced about the room panicked…and sure enough Ficen's dubious gaze was watching her closely.

Stephanie smiled widely, placing a chaste kiss on Frenkin's forehead before wrapping her arms around him in an attempt to mask her emotions that were slowly spiralling out of control.

Isa seeing the encounter went on to tell Stephanie how well Frenkin had done. Stephanie ruffled his hair affectionately as Frenkin flushed scarlet.

'What if Seneca plans to have my family punished?' Stephanie's mind was in turmoil; her legs began to feel shaky.

"What was the food like?" one of Frenkin's stylists leaned in eagerly. The stylist seemed so normal in comparison to Capitol standards.

"Wonderful, I tasted soufflé," Stephanie replied, remembering the name from the menu.

The stylists began to offer up their opinions on the food.

Stephanie's throat was dry. Ficen had moved and was fast approaching Haymitch.

Haymitch was still looking at her with a mixture of emotions on his face; anger, hurt and pleading. He was drinking generously from a bottle of vodka.

Stephanie couldn't help the yelp of distress that escaped her as Frenkin took her hand in his; however it went unnoticed by most as they were still talking about the food.

Haymitch started forward and Stephanie shot him a warning look but there was no need for Ficen had reached him.

The lights in the room were beginning to hurt Stephanie's eyes and a dull throb was beginning in her head. Had the room always been this bright?

She felt a small sense of comfort from the steady presence of Frenkin beside her and her cold hand held tightly in his warm one.

"Did Dess like your dress?" the question came somewhere from Stephanie's right.

"Yes, he commented numerous times that it was beautiful," Stephanie answered.

Stephanie glanced wildly over at Haymitch and Ficen who seemed to be in deep conversation.

'I can't tell Haymitch about Seneca,' Stephanie thought frantically.

She caught Haymitch's eye for a moment, his eyes were wide, almost shocked. Ficen walked away, leaving the room, her face tight and drawn.

Stephanie felt dizzy; it was as if clammy hands were pawing at her as her stomach twisted.

"Was Dess waiting when you arrived? Did he pull out your chair?" The questions were being fired at Stephanie from all directions. She had barely time to answer one before another was asked.

"Yes he was waiting when I arrived, yes he did," Stephanie answered meekly.

"You had a very long dinner," one of the stylists commented before breaking into giggles with her friend.

Stephanie nearly missed the comment as Haymitch was approaching her.

"The restaurant you went to is only ten minutes away, so that means you were at dinner for nearly four hours!" the faces around Stephanie began to become blurry.

Stephanie merely nodded with a weak smile.

"Are you are alright pet?" Isa's voice drifted to her somewhere from her right.

Stephanie staggered back a few steps until she felt familiar arms holding her upright, supporting her like they had been from the very start.

'No!' Stephanie thought, 'We can't be like this anymore. Seneca knows now – he saw from the car! He will harm Haymitch; I have to stop this now!' Stephanie though desperately as she tried to struggle from Haymitch's arms.

She tried to stand upright on her own as Haymitch's words sounded somewhere from behind her, she could feel his breath, "She's just exhausted, that's all,"

Frenkin's hand slipped from hers. Stephanie tried desperately to claw her way back to consciousness but her sight was fast blurring as if a veil was being pulled across her vision.

…

_(Haymitch's POV)_

Stephanie slumped in Haymitch's arms to the distressed cries and yelps of the stylists and Isa and even Frenkin.

Haymitch reassured them briskly that Stephanie was just tired, scooping Stephanie up into his arms, trying to ignore the clawing at his own heart and appear objective.

Haymitch left the room making swiftly for Stephanie's bedroom.

He heard a soft moan and looked down to see that Stephanie was regaining consciousness. He breathed a sigh of relief – she had just fainted after all, but his apprehension still stayed.

Haymitch immediately felt her stiffen as she looked up at him.

"What did Ficen say to you?" she asked, her eyes trembling.

"She said that Dess was on Capitol News at 5pm today live. He was on his way to the restaurant and he was saying how he couldn't wait to have dinner with you,"

Haymitch stopped to let her down when Stephanie had made it clear her wish was to walk.

Stephanie looked at him perplexed. "I don't understand," she remarked quietly.

"You arrived at the restaurant at 4pm,"

…

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie immediately blanched as she realised the implication of Haymitch's words. When that idiotic Dess had given his interview she had already been at the restaurant having dinner with Seneca. Haymitch might not have known the particulars but he was smart enough to recognise that there was an unexplained hour in her story.

And then what of Ficen - what did she know? What conclusion had she come to - surely she could not have guessed the entirety of all that had happened.

Stephanie glanced up at Haymitch and her heart wrenched painfully when she seen his grey eyes that seemed to be so full of hurt and …betrayal?

She hadn't betrayed Haymitch by not telling him about Seneca – had she? Stephanie's thoughts were muddled and confused, her head was hurting.

Stephanie tried to swallow the tears. It was better this way she told herself, Seneca would only destroy them anyway for revenge on Haymitch or for her own bold words.

And for the second time in so short a space Stephanie collapsed soundlessly, caught just in time by Haymitch, however this time she didn't merely faint.

**Right...so; Stephanie is afraid to love Haymitch because she feels Seneca will kill them for revenge :O...Haymitch is still in the dark, all that he knows is Stephanie is keeping something from him :O**

**Review and tell me what you think? :)**


	28. Confessions

**Disclaimer; I don't own The Hunger Games**

**Sorry for long wait I was sick :( **

**HGH; Thanks for review - and I know; I'm cruel aren't I? :P**

**Princesskatnissmellark; Thanks for the review and I'm really glad you like it :D**

**Philippa; Thanks for the review - I won't :P**

**Chapter Twenty ****–**** Eight; Confessions**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

The sunlight was extremely persistent that morning determined to wake Stephanie. Every part of her body ached and her head was throbbing where she could feel hair pins digging uncomfortably into her scalp. She opened her eyes moaning groggily; her throat felt as if it were made of sandpaper. Her stomach was growling persistently reminding her that it was very empty. She had barely touched the food on her plate from the dinner with Dess.

And just with that one simple connection all the events of the previous day hit her with what felt like the force of one of the Capitol trains.

She gasped sharply, shooting up straight in the bed.

Someone cleared their throat politely and Stephanie snapped her head around to see Frenkin looking at her expectantly.

"What time is it?" Stephanie asked hoarsely.

Frenkin gave her a small smile, and handing her a glass of water from the bedside table answered her, "Just after nine."

Stephanie drank gratefully; it soothed her throat a little.

"How are you feeling?" Frenkin asked hopefully.

Stephanie pulled the covers back and swung her legs over the bed; immediately noticing that she was still in her blue dress from the night before.

Glancing over at the mirror on the wardrobe door she caught sight of the smudged make-up and dishevelled hair with numerous pins sticking out of it at odd angles.

She turned to Frenkin with an arched eyebrow and a questioning look.

"Haymitch brought you to your room after you fainted. He said you were exhausted and went straight to bed," Frenkin explained.

Stephanie's heart tightened at the mention of Haymitch.

"Where is Haymitch now?" she ventured cautiously.

Frenkin frowned a little, his brows knitting together. "In his room," Frenkin replied.

"His room?" Stephanie repeated.

Frenkin nodded. "He…drank a little too much last night," Frenkin added hesitantly.

Stephanie got to her feet shakily.

"I'll get cleaned up and then go and see him," Stephanie said, sounding a lot more confident that she felt. Frenkin breathed a sigh of relief and Stephanie wondered if that was his purpose all along in waiting for her to wake-up.

Frenkin nodded, suddenly notably more cheerful.

"And then come down to breakfast. Isa says we have a big day ahead of us,"

"A big day?" Stephanie inquired warily.

"Yes but I better let Isa explain it to you," Frenkin said before with a last smile he left the room.

Stephanie sighed deeply; so Haymitch had been drinking? That was nothing new though. She knew Haymitch was fond of his alcohol, well let's be honest the man was a drunk half the time! But then…why did Stephanie feel that Haymitch's recent binge had something to do with recent events involving her.

Freeing herself from the confines of the blue material Stephanie removed the pins deftly from her hair before stepping into the shower and letting the water wash away all the evidence that the dinner date had ever happened.

While Stephanie was in the shower she scrubbed at her skin methodically, thinking of what she would say to Haymitch.

'I don't want to tell Haymitch about Seneca…if I do and he confronts him Seneca could harm him…but what do I tell him instead? And can I really lie to him?' Stephanie turned the water off and wrapping a towel around her went back into her room to search for clothes.

After wearing the green shirt and black pants constantly – except when forced to wear dresses and the such for formal occasions – they had finally been able to sneak them away from her.

She cursed loudly thinking of how the last thing she wanted to go to Haymitch in was one of these Capitol contraptions.

She went to the wardrobe pulling the door open forcibly. "Oh," she said quietly. It seemed that maybe they weren't so ignorant to her tastes after all and only wanted her to wear clean clothes.

The wardrobe now contained a few pairs of form fitting trousers in varying dark shades and some better fitting shirts.

Stephanie pulled a pair of navy blue trousers from the wardrobe and a crisp white shirt.

After getting dressed Stephanie stood in front of the mirror. She doubted Haymitch would really notice her appearance if he was suffering from a hangover but she had found that she cared more now about what Haymitch thought about her.

Her hair was still damp and so with great reluctance she used the dreaded hairdryer.

A few minutes later she was slinking down the hallway towards where she knew Haymitch's room was. There was a slight murmur of voices coming from the direction of the main room and kitchen.

However bare-foot she was able to make her way quietly to his room door. She paused hesitantly pressing her ear to the door for any signs of life. All seemed to be silent.

Stephanie opened the door enough so that she could peek in.

Haymitch was sprawled haphazardly on the sofa in his room, having completely ignored the perfectly good bed. 'Trust Haymitch to be difficult' Stephanie thought slipping in noiselessly and shutting the door after her.

She tip-toed over to where he was sleeping. Stephanie would have liked to say that Haymitch looked peaceful and calm as he slept but in truth Haymitch looked as if he was being strangled; his face was twisted in a grimace and he was still clutching an empty vodka bottle in one hand.

Stephanie nudged his shoulder gently, "Haymitch?" she called.

He groaned and pushed her hand away and dropped the vodka bottle, his eyes remaining shut. Haymitch muttered something incoherent under his breath and Stephanie cursed.

'Damn it – I bet he is still drunk!' Stephanie thought.

Stalking determinedly into his bathroom Stephanie filled a glass with water and grabbed a towel before walking back to Haymitch.

Without the slightest hint of hesitation Stephanie threw the water directly into Haymitch's face.

He immediately woke spluttering and then glared darkly at Stephanie after seeing the empty glass in her hand.

"Was that really necessary sweetheart?" he drawled.

Stephanie didn't answer him, just threw the towel at him.

He seated himself properly in the chair and dried his face. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his gaze flickering between her face and his hands.

Stephanie took a deep breath in preparation.

"We need to talk."

…

_(Haymitch's POV) - (maybe Stephanie's near the end)_

"This is starting to get old sweetheart," Haymitch muttered darkly, tossing the towel to some corner of the room. He got to his feet, trying his best to ignore the spinning of the room.

Brushing forcibly by her, Haymitch began to rummage about his room for his hidden stash.

Searching the drawers out of the corner of his eye he saw Stephanie standing still, hugging her elbows to herself and staring off blankly.

Haymitch sighed deeply and reluctantly trudged over to stand in front of her with his hands stuck in his pockets.

Stephanie looked up and took a deep breath.

"Do you trust me?"

Haymitch frowned a little. "Yes."

Stephanie paused and nodded slowly. Haymitch eyed her curiously.

"I can't tell you what happened yesterday,"

Haymitch felt bitterness flood through him and he scoffed angrily. He wouldn't admit that he felt hurt because she refused to tell him.

Stephanie flinched and he seen her eyes cloud over. Haymitch wanted nothing more than to forget it all but he couldn't. Everything he did was to help her and now she was keeping things from him?

Haymitch turned and stalked off before he stopped in front of one of the long sleek tables pressed against the furthest wall. Clutching the table edge firmly with his back to Stephanie Haymitch tried to quell the pounding that had started in his head.

"Please Haymitch…" Stephanie's voice wavered and Haymitch's hold on the table tightened until his knuckles were white with the pressure.

"You want me to just forget what happened - hell I don't even know what it is I am meant to be forgetting sweetheart," Haymitch ran a hand through his hair and turned to face Stephanie.

Tears streaked her cheeks and she hugged her arms tightly to herself.

Sighing in defeat Haymitch went and pulled Stephanie into his arms. He felt something like relief fill him as Stephanie relaxed against him, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"I don't want to hurt you…I…I'm doing this to protect you," her words were muffled slightly in his shoulder and by her own tears.

"Hey…sweetheart, that's my job."

He felt her shoulders shake slightly with a laugh.

Stephanie pulled back slightly to meet his eyes.

"Can we pretend it never happened?" Stephanie asked, pleaded her eyes flickering uncertainly.

Could he forget? No. Would he forget? Yes. If it meant that Stephanie's golden eyes wouldn't be misted over like they were now.

He offered her a small smile.

"You don't half make things difficult sweetheart," he said.

Stephanie exhaled in relief before giving a loud laugh.

"Woah…easy," Haymitch said, wincing slightly. Stephanie arched an eyebrow at him.

"Hangover sweetheart," Haymitch explained dryly.

She shoved his shoulder playfully before tightening her hold on him once again.

"I am sorry…" she began gently. Haymitch didn't let her finish instead kissing her firmly on the lips.

She immediately pressed herself closer against him, her long fingers twisting in his hair and pulling him to her greedily. Haymitch half-lifted Stephanie off the ground; one arm firmly around her waist and the other gripping her hip tightly.

Stephanie moaned into the kiss, her back arching reflexively as Haymitch pulled her hips against his. Their lips parted and Haymitch began to trail a line of fiery kisses down her throat. Stephanie's breaths came out in short gasps. She clung to Haymitch's shoulders almost desperately.

"I am sorry…" Stephanie enforced again in a rasping whisper. Stephanie gasped sharply as Haymitch's hand on her hip moved lower.

"Sweetheart…"Haymitch began. He grunted and the hand on her waist tightened when Stephanie rocked her hips against his.

"Stephanie…Haymitch?" Stephanie immediately pushed Haymitch away from her where he swiftly fell backwards at the sudden push and collided with the floor with a series of curses.

Frenkin stood uncertainly at the door flushed scarlet red and glancing between Haymitch and Stephanie with a confused expression.

Stephanie coughed nervously until finally she said, "he's drunk," and pointed at Haymitch.

Haymitch looked up at her incredulous, "Ha! No sweetheart I _was_ drunk - I am now hung-over and once again in pain thanks to you,"

Stephanie unsuccessfully tried to bite back a laugh.

"Your wonderful mood is one of the things I love about you," Stephanie joked.

At the realisation of her words both Stephanie and Haymitch fell into silence.

Love?

"Isa said that you better hurry to get breakfast," Frenkin said, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

Stephanie glanced up almost dazed and nodded her consent.

With a grateful expression Frenkin high-tailed it from the room.

Haymitch stood and dusted himself off, meeting Stephanie's eyes.

Stephanie gulped a few times.

Haymitch forced her to look up at him when she refused to meet his eyes.

"What was that you were saying sweetheart?"

"Something about you being drunk I believe,"

Haymitch smirked.

"No sweetheart…I think it was something about you being hopelessly in love with me and my devilish good looks," Haymitch said, his hands drifting to rest possessively on Stephanie's hips.

Stephanie fought the smirk pulling at her lips, "Yeah right," she said, her arms snaking once more around Haymitch's shoulders.

Haymitch moved to kiss Stephanie and then paused, his lips hovering inches from hers.

"So what's this then?" he asked. Stephanie looked into his eyes and seen the worried and almost desperate look they held.

Stephanie swallowed. "I love you."

Haymitch's chest heaved a sigh of relief before he pressed his lips gently against hers. It was broke after a few moments and Haymitch rested his forehead against hers.

"I love you too sweetheart."

**Was it okay? Drop me a review if you have the time; **


	29. Atonement

**Disclaimer; I do not own The Hunger Games**

**PastelMonster; Thanks so much! I hope you continue to enjoy :) **

**AN; Not really eventful but sets up needed circumstances for next chapter**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine; Atonement**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie's stomach growled loudly and Haymitch snickered.

Stephanie pulled back from his arms, "What is so funny? I haven't eaten anything since yesterday morning practically," she chided folding her arms and trying to appear cross.

Haymitch rolled his eyes, "Fine then sweetheart, let's go get breakfast then?"

They entwined their fingers together almost shyly. Stephanie peeked up at him and Haymitch glanced away clearing his throat.

The sound of Isa's irritated tone could be heard and Stephanie reluctantly slipped her hand from Haymitch's.

He glanced at her and a look of understanding passed between them.

"I want to keep this secret. The Capitol can't have this, I won't let them use it as some cheap selling ploy," Stephanie spoke quietly, her eyes trained on Haymitch's. And silently she suspected that alerting Seneca to the changes in their relationship was not a good idea.

Haymitch nodded in silent agreement.

Sighing in relief Stephanie made to walk for the door.

"Though I wouldn't say you convinced Frenkin sweetheart," Haymitch said, pressing a hand to the small of Stephanie's back.

Stephanie's lips quirked into a small smile.

"I don't think so either," Stephanie agreed.

"There you two are! Honestly do you know how much work we have to do today! Stephanie pet how are you feeling today, these fainting spells of yours are quite inconvenient, and Haymitch dear…how are you? You know you should really watch how much you drink…" Isa continued to fuss over them as Stephanie and Haymitch took their respective seats at the table.

Stephanie ate hungrily, too distracted to be much bothered by Haymitch's smug look as she shovelled food into her mouth.

Frenkin was notably absent.

Between mouthfuls of food Stephanie brought it up.

"Where is Frenkin?"

Isa paused her speech on her nails (a neon orange today dotted with various gems) to answer Stephanie's question.

"He is already in with Alba getting ready for today,"

Stephanie nodded gulping down mouthfuls of hot coffee.

"What are the plans for today?" Stephanie asked as Haymitch poured her another cup of coffee.

"Shopping!" Isa squealed excitedly.

Stephanie nearly choked on the food in her mouth. She was sure she had misheard Isa.

"Shopping?" Stephanie repeated. Isa nodded vigorously. Okay so she hadn't misheard her. But surely she was going 'shopping' for sponsors or something after all she was in the Hunger Games not a pageant.

"Yes the finest designers of the Capitol have opened up their boutiques for the tributes only for today!" Isa continued, leaning forward eagerly. Okay so they were shopping for clothes.

"I thought that was why we had our own personal stylists for," Stephanie asked, pushing her plate away from her. There is no way I can string an outfit together Stephanie thought panicked.

"Yes but this is shopping!" Isa explained. Stephanie waited for further clarification but it seemed that that was the explanation.

Stephanie booted Haymitch under the table. She couldn't see his face because he had suddenly found the ground more interesting but she instinctively knew that he was smirking.

Isa began to talk about the many wondrous Capitol stylists before adding, "Oh Stephanie pet if you are finished then Ficen is waiting in your room."

Stephanie inhaled sharply at the mention of the stylist recalling Ficen's suspicious glances the previous night. Stephanie felt Haymitch stiffen beside her.

"Ficen will help you choose the right outfits - after all let's be serious Stephanie pet you couldn't pick an outfit," Isa continued.

Stephanie tried to reassure herself. Ficen knew nothing…but then why did Stephanie feel a sinking feeling like lead in her stomach at the thoughts of spending the day shopping with Ficen.

Stephanie swallowed the yelp in her throat as Haymitch captured her hand under the table in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze while he pretended to listen to Isa.

Stephanie returned the reassurance before standing.

"I'll go to her now,"

Stephanie caught Haymitch's eye before she left the table and made her way to her room.

Nearing the door Stephanie regulated her breathing as she paused outside.

She could hear the murmur of voices from within and could make out a few phrases; it seemed to be nothing but idle talk.

Trying to swallow her fear Stephanie entered the room with a confident air which was quickly shattered when her eyes met upon Ficen's cold stare.

The other three stylists giggled and exchanged some comments about her state of dress. Stephanie might have felt embarrassed if she wasn't already terrified by Ficen.

Ficen doesn't know anything Stephanie tried to reassure herself.

Stephanie felt relief wash over her when Ficen broke her stare to glare at the stylists.

"Well…get to work then,"

A short while later and Stephanie was donned once more in Capitol finery consisting of a fitting long sleeved shimmering cream dress that ended just above her knees. The dress itself was quite plain by Capitol standards. The colour scheme seemed to be gold or shades of it.

She was practically lifted into gold ankle boots that she found a little steadier than the regular heels. Next was an assortment of jewellery that only seemed intent on weighing her down. Make-up was identical to the previous night only now her lips and cheeks had an additional gold sheen to them.

Stephanie winced in preparation for the harsh pull of her hair into whatever new contortion Ficen had dreamed up, but it never came. Stephanie shivered as she felt cold metal slide into her hair and clamp securely. Ficen had merely secured her hair back from her face with an intricate gold clasp allowing it to tumble freely down her back.

"You're finished," Ficen stated firmly and Stephanie trembled a little because she couldn't help but think that Ficen meant it in more ways than one.

…

_(Haymitch's POV)_

Haymitch shifted nervously as he waited on Stephanie. His nervousness was due to the odd looks that Frenkin insisted on throwing him every few moments.

"Isa is that a smudge in your make-up?" Haymitch asked innocently.

Isa screamed in horror before racing off to the bathroom to correct the 'smudge'.

Haymitch caught Frenkin tug at his collar of his white shirt awkwardly.

"Hey…kid, get it off your chest already," Haymitch scowled.

Frenkin turned to him with wide eyes before blinking rapidly.

"I…You and Stephanie…I mean…" Frenkin trailed off looking up at Haymitch questioningly.

Haymitch gulped hard and tried to reason the possible scenarios that could entail.

"Do you like her?" Frenkin asked.

Silence.

"Well…yea kid, I kinda…like Stephanie – a lot," Haymitch's words trailed off.

"Do you love her?"

Haymitch glanced at Frenkin who returned his gaze with wide, unblinking blue eyes.

"Yes I love her," Haymitch answered quietly.

Frenkin nodded as if in confirmation.

"Kid…" Haymitch began pitifully but stopped. What could he say? That he would still try to save him? But that would be a lie. The moment he had admitted the truth that he loved Stephanie everyone in that arena had become a threat even little innocent Frenkin with his wide blue eyes. He wouldn't lie and tell him he would try, the kid already knew.

Frenkin seemed to stare off oblivious until Isa came bounding around the corner followed closely by Stephanie, Ficen and the other three stylists.

Haymitch felt a gnawing feeling as he observed the tell-tale signs of Stephanie whenever she was trying not to cry or burst out in anger; the tightening of her jaw and how her eyes always seemed brighter and her pupils trembled.

He glanced at Ficen who just brushed haughtily by him followed by her three assistants into the lift, the doors immediately sliding shut after them.

Isa glanced over Stephanie approvingly issuing praises before as the lift doors slid open once more the four of them stepped into the empty lift. Isa was facing the front practically bouncing on her heels in excitement.

In the lift for a brief moment Stephanie leaned back against Haymitch and after assuring that Isa and Frenkin's attention was otherwise occupied Haymitch slid his arms around Stephanie's waist and placed a lingering kiss on her cheek.

There was a ping and Stephanie stepped out of Haymitch's embrace as the doors slid open.

Haymitch wondered if Stephanie felt something of the same guilt over Frenkin as he for as they left the lift and made for the front doors and the waiting cars Stephanie draped an arm around Frenkin's shoulders and pulled him tightly against her before dropping a kiss on his head.

But then why would she? Haymitch thoughts countered. It's not as if she is giving Frenkin up for dead.

Once out the door a horrified Alba dragged Frenkin out of Stephanie's grasp once more claiming Stephanie's 'manhandling' was destroying his hard work.

There were two separate cars and each group of stylists slipped into each one.

"Haymitch pet will you take Stephanie?" Isa asked as she began to direct Frenkin to the car with Alba and his stylists in it.

Yes. Of course. Happily. Forever. "No,"

Isa turned around with a confused expression, her hand still on Frenkin's shoulder. Stephanie paused at the door of her car and turned to him with a questioning look.

"I'll take Frenkin today Isa. You can go with Stephanie…it will be better, you will be able to help Stephanie more than I could, two women shopping etc." Haymitch enforced.

Isa tilted her head slightly but shrugged in acceptance. "Okay Haymitch pet, I suppose you're right," Isa replied cheerfully, giving Frenkin's hair a careful pet wary of displacing a single hair under Alba's watching eye.

Haymitch glanced over at Stephanie who still stood frozen at the car door. Her face was blank, a smooth mask but she gave him a nod and a small smile before slipping dutifully into the car.

Haymitch would save Stephanie at all costs…he loved her. That was why he had to give Frenkin this…this one day if that was all it was. Atonement because Haymitch wouldn't save Frenkin.

**Bit depressing I know...:/**


	30. Blue

**Disclaimer; As usual I don't own a thing or as Philippa brilliantly suggested I would attempt to write something :(**

**PastelMonster; Thank-you; I know - poor Frenkin :(**

**Philippa; Thanks so much! You should so do that and then I'll read it & love it! XD**

**AN; Slightly longer chapter, also might be a bit confusing? Not sure - let me know if it is or any questions...**

**Chapter Thirty; Blue**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie hugged her arms about her waist feeling vulnerable as she sat in the car with a glaring Ficen, a giddy Isa and three gossiping stylists. She tried to force the feeling of Haymitch's warm arms around her waist to linger but all too soon she felt cold and an involuntary shiver running down her spine caused her to shudder.

Ficen was still watching her closely as if any minute now Stephanie might make a jump from the moving car.

"So where is it we are heading?" Stephanie asked trying to sound somewhat remotely interested. Ficen scoffed at her ignorance as Lashes launched into a full description of the clothes to expect with added commentary from Bright, Silver and Isa.

Stephanie didn't care really but Ficen's continued glare was making her uneasy.

Shopping. Back home in District 3 'shopping' or as close as they got to it just meant looking at things that you could never have, half-bartering, half-begging just to get in the essentials. The whole idea of 'shopping' in the Capitol was somewhat overwhelming to Stephanie.

The drive was longer than the one to the restaurant had been the previous night or maybe it just seemed that way because of the company she had this time. After five minutes Stephanie immediately regretted asking about the shops as a dull throbbing began in her head.

When the car stopped and the door was opened Stephanie was ready to lunge for the open air though she suspected Ficen would tackle her before she could make it out of the car.

Stephanie stepped out onto the smooth pavement taking a moment to steady herself and assess her surroundings.

To her right and to her left stretched tall buildings of gentle pastel colours and bright window displays.

Ficen directed her towards the pale pink one in front of her forcibly. As they pushed through the door there was a clear ring of a bell.

Stephanie reigned in her shock at finding that the cameras were already filming her and a crowd had already gathered. Ficen pushed her towards a man standing at the front that looked like he could be Ficen's brother.

As Stephanie neared and the man's scowl deepened Stephanie began to have strong suspicions that he was definitely related to Ficen.

"This is Cen, one of the top stylists in the whole Capitol," Ficen introduced.

Stephanie didn't know how she was expected to respond but she was aware that the cameras were still trained on her and she could hear the murmurs of the crowd behind her. However thankfully Cen took the lead.

"Welcome Miss Trindlesworth to my Emporium of Superior Clothing," Cen had the type of nasally voice that Stephanie could imagine herself wanting to punch him for after listening to it for a while.

Stephanie smiled brightly, "I am honoured to be here," she replied. Stephanie had no idea what angle she was meant to be playing for; she couldn't do sultry and seductive like the girl with the short dark blonde hair from District 2 or sweet and bubbly like the small glossy haired girl from District 1. She could do honest, sarcastic and violent though she wasn't sure they would help her cause at all.

"I have taken the liberty of selecting some outfits that I think may suit you. If you come this way we can start immediately showcasing them," Cen lead the way further into the shop.

They passed extravagant displays of silk and cashmere and other luxurious fabrics and bright colours that Stephanie had no name for. Finally they reached the back of the room where a large area had been cleared with a sort of long stage. There were also rows of seats and at the far back of the stage there was an ornate changing screen set up. The crowd began to fill the seats that had been laid out for them.

Stephanie flushed scarlet red even as she allowed Isa, who seemed by far the most excited, behind the screen.

Once behind the safety of the cover of the screen Stephanie let her bright façade falter. Lashes and Bright pulled impatiently at the ties that held up her dress at the back as Stephanie tried to quell her shaking.

Ficen immediately appeared at the other end with a bunch of silver silks in her arms.

With sharp tugs and much squeezing Stephanie finally was ready to model the outfit.

In a pair of tall black heels and a silver dress Stephanie stepped out from behind the screen the crowd gathered broke into applause and there was a ripple of murmured approvals.

Stephanie stood tall and smiled widely just trying to concentrate on not falling.

After 'attempted strutting' to showcase the dress Stephanie stumbled gratefully once more behind the safety of the screen.

She was barely there a moment before Lashes, Bright and Ficen began to rip the dress from her. Stephanie tried to appear indignant pushing their hands away but it made no difference.

Stephanie could hear the reporters interviewing Cen as he told them about his designs. Stephanie really wanted to punch him though she would settle for anyone at the moment.

Isa continued to mumble words of encouragement and advice about keeping her head up while Ficen told her how awful she was doing and that it was a degradation that such wonderful clothes should have to endure her. Stephanie couldn't help but smirk at Ficen in amusement.

Stephanie was next forced into some flowing backless and strapless dress. Stephanie glanced panicked in the floor length mirror. "Ficen!" she whispered furiously. Ficen's white head snapped up from where she was adjusting Stephanie's skirts.

"There is nothing holding my dress up," Stephanie explained in panic hands clutching the bodice of the dress tightly.

Ficen gave a smug smirk. "Move your hands," Ficen said, and then pulled them away fiercely when Stephanie refused.

Stephanie waited for the dress to pool around her feet but it stayed put and Stephanie stared in amazement.

The dress fitted tightly to every curve of her body until it reached her knees where it flared out and behind in an impressive shower of diamonds. The dress itself was an icy blue in colour and a shiver ran down Stephanie's spine as she recalled memories she would rather forget.

Stephanie stepped out as elegantly as she could, hands poised like claws to catch her falling dress. She still didn't trust Ficen that her dress was gravity-defying though as she felt the familiar feeling of her blood flow being cut off around her chest Stephanie began to have an inkling of what was holding her dress up.

She strode to stand in front of the crowd and placing her hands on her hips tilted her chin confidently.

There was another rippled applause and murmurs of approval; even Cen seemed somewhat pleased with this one.

Stephanie stood still as Cen explained his inspiration for the design.

Stephanie gave a dazzlingly smile letting her eyes glide over the crowd filled with dozens of painted and unfamiliar faces.

But then…Stephanie inhaled sharply as her eyes got a glimpse of a familiar face and her head snapped back frantically searching the crowd for him. She scanned the faces but he wasn't there.

It couldn't have been him. But…she could have sworn she saw him. Eyes the colour of the very dress she was wearing. But it couldn't be him, he couldn't be here.

Stephanie tried to slow her racing heartbeat; grateful that Haymitch had went with Frenkin.

Stephanie stopped herself just in time from dealing a reporter a swift elbow to the gut when he slinked up behind her silently and slid an arm around her waist.

"Well well Miss Stephanie Trindlesworth, female tribute from District 3 what do you think of this dress?" the man's smile was far too wide as he presented her to the crowd.

Stephanie glanced uneasily over the crowd once more trying to reassure herself.

"It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," Stephanie replied, though her answer lacked the enthusiasm that the statement needed. However the crowd seemed satisfied and cheered loudly.

Stephanie looked at the faces in front of her. 'It wasn't him' she repeated the words over and over in her head.

"Well Stephanie…may I call you Stephanie?" Stephanie nodded her consent and the reporter beamed down at her again, pulling her closer to him. Stephanie allowed her elbow to press firmly into his ribs in warning.

"I must say Stephanie and I think all the wonderful people here would agree that you look quite ravishing in this dress, wouldn't you agree?" the reporter asked the crowd.

He was met by cheers and positive replies. Stephanie flamed red; she had never felt more humiliated in her life. She hated this feeling of being sold.

The reporter was starting to seriously annoy Stephanie. His breath smelt like mint against Stephanie's cheek but it wasn't pleasant it was almost burning. And he had a habit of leaning in as if to speak to her confidentially only to speak loudly to the crowd and almost deafen her.

"Well Stephanie is there a special someone who would be pleased by what he saw right now," the reporter winked at Stephanie and there were a few whistles from the crowd.

Stephanie blushed scarlet red and opened her mouth to speak hastily and say there was no one but the reporter cut across her.

"Oh look at that blush! Ladies and Gentlemen our Stephanie here has a lover!" the crowd erupted into a whole cacophony of sounds.

Stephanie's eyes widened in horror as she felt her anger build up in her.

"Since when did remaining silent mean yes, and actually the answer is damn well no," Stephanie said frowning and crossing her arms sternly.

She didn't have time to regret her angry words because to her growing anger the reporter only laughed loudly and the crowd followed suit. "Okay Stephanie - whatever you say!" and here he gave her an over-exaggerated wink.

Stephanie saw red in those moments until she saw blue, or rather a pair of icy blue eyes watching her and her red anger melted away to leave a cold chill.

However as soon as she saw them they were gone again but the colour had drained from Stephanie's face.

The reporter was interrupted by one of Cen's young female assistants who handed him a package and whispered something in his ear.

The reporter's eyes leapt to life and his grin grew even wider if that were possible.

"My my my Stephanie you are a sly one – keeping your juicy secret from us!" the reporter tore at the white ribbon that bound the black box closed.

Stephanie stared at him in confusion and the crowd edged forward eagerly talking excitedly amongst themselves while the cameras caught it all on film.

"Our Stephanie here has a lover…"Stephanie was about to protest once more when the reporter's next words silenced her, "a lover indeed ladies and gentlemen, but not just any old district tail no! Our Stephanie here has a lover from the Capitol!"

The crowd erupted once more into delighted squeals and applause.

"Who is it?"

"Yes – tell us who it is"

"Is it your dinner date?"

"Dinner date! – Is it Dess?"

The crowd were on their feet now calling out to her. The ever present guards stopped them from openly running up and accosting her.

Stephanie felt her head spin. No…not here she begged, please don't let me faint.

The reporter raised his hands up to appease the crowd and a silence that hummed with electricity fell over the crowd as they waited eagerly.

"Here I have the proof," the reporter opened the lid of the box and presented to the crowd and Stephanie its contents.

Inside was a necklace of sparkling diamonds and ice blue gems.

Stephanie could feel the blood pounding in her ears as she looked upon the necklace feeling as if she were trapped in some sort of surreal nightmare.

But she wasn't dreaming she was here and she hadn't imagined seeing those ice blue eyes.

Seneca was here.

Stephanie felt anger fire through her blood at the thought that Seneca was in this very place watching her in amusement as she was the laughing stock of these Capitol imbeciles.

"No I have no lover from the Capitol. I have only one lover and he is from my District," Stephanie forgot her judgement and allowed anger to seep into her very words, directing a deliberate and disdainful glare at the necklace.

As she glared at the inanimate object her eyes caught two words scrawled almost haphazardly across the inside.

'_Thank-you'_

"Two lovers! A Capitol lover and a District lover!" more shouts came from the crowd and Stephanie felt her legs go weak beneath her. She was going to faint. Stephanie clutched the cool material of the dress in her hands as her eyes scanned the crowd.

She needed Haymitch here.

But he wasn't here, and she possibly gave him away.

Stephanie's breathing was ragged; black spots began to appear across her vision.

Stephanie gave a distressed cry at the feel of the cool metal sliding around her throat as the reporter boldly secured the necklace.

She raised a shaky hand to the jewellery that felt like a noose around her neck.

Suddenly there was a hand on her back.

She glanced back looking for Haymitch. But it wasn't him, she knew it wasn't him – he wasn't here.

It was Ficen and she was smiling brightly out at the crowd. "Please, please you are overwhelming her she is nothing but a simple district girl," Ficen tried to explain.

But the crowd would not be appeased.

"Who is her Capitol lover?"

"Who is her District lover?"

"Who does she love the most?"

The questions began to blur into one big rioting noise. Stephanie stumbled and Ficen caught her about the waist.

"Don't you dare faint her in front of the cameras," Ficen snarled in her ear.

Ficen dragged her off the stage making for the cover of the changing screen. She shouted out promises of return to the roaring crowd and insistent reporter.

Once behind the screen Ficen pushed Stephanie harshly and as Stephanie stumbled she struck her head against the changing screen.

Ficen was speaking to her. She was furious but Stephanie couldn't hear her over the din of the crowd.

Stephanie rose her hand tentatively to her head just above her temple, her hair was sticky and wet.

Stephanie drew her hand back to look at her fingertips stained red.

The world went up in blinding blue before fading to black as Stephanie crumpled to the ground.

…

_(Seneca's POV)_

Furious. Completely livid. Nothing could describe the anger he felt at that moment.

"I told you to give it to the head stylist!" he snarled.

The young man shook violently, one of his eyes swollen shut and blood drooling from his busted lip.

"I did but I swear!"

"The wrong one you idiot!" the man gave out a pained yelp as Seneca's fist collided with his jaw.

"When I said give it to the head stylist I meant give it to Ficen! Not Cen!" Seneca clenched his fists tightly and the man below him cowered as he whimpered pitifully.

"Sir we best be moving on," one of his personal guards urged quietly.

Seneca took a few steadying breaths before he turned on his heel sharply and left the secluded alley to slide gratefully into the cool darkness of his car.

He had to speak to her. Explain that it was a mistake. He had never meant for all that to happen. It was meant to be a private gift in gratitude – even if she wouldn't wear it she could at least sell it, but this idiot had given it to the wrong person.

Seneca sighed heavily, shutting his eyes. An image of Stephanie stepping out in an elegant blue dress taunted him. Seneca growled in frustration, he wasn't used to things not going his way.

His mind drifted to the damning interview between Stephanie and the reporter and suddenly his eyes narrowed, fists clenching tightly as his thoughts halted at one particular question– who was this district lover?

**Right there you have it; not to insult your intelligence or anything but in short - Seneca wanted to give Stephanie the necklace as a thank-you (Ch26) but the 'messenger' give it to the wrong Head Stylist, - Cen who not knowing the significance passed it on resulting in chaos...And what part does Ficen have to play in all this? :O ...stay tuned :P**

**Review...it makes me update faster XP (yes that was a shamed attempt at blackmail 0.0 ) **


	31. Comfort

******Disclaim****er; I own nothing as usual**

**Chapter Thirty-One; Comfort**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie woke groggily, her bleary eyes trying to make sense of the darkness.

She moved her hand across the surface and immediately ascertained that she was on a bed. But where? And how? What time was it? The last thing she remembered was Ficen pushing her behind the screen and then darkness.

Stephanie's head hurt worse than ever and she tried to supress the whimper of pain. Her heart leapt into her throat as suddenly the door to the room she was in swung open and light flooded the room from the hall.

Stephanie gasped in relief as she recognised her room back at the District building, recognised her bed and most of all recognised Haymitch as he burst into her room with blazing grey eyes.

Haymitch said nothing but immediately strode over to her before sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling her into his arms fiercely.

Stephanie let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding and with it came her hoarse cries. She buried her face in Haymitch's shoulder as he rubbed her back soothingly his other hand entangled in her long hair.

Haymitch placed a few brief kisses to her temple before he suddenly pushed her back staring at her intensely.

"What is it?" Stephanie croaked.

Haymitch lifted his hand and with gentle fingers prodded just above her temple. Stephanie hissed in response raising her own hands. She allowed her fingertips to brush over the slightly tender and raised gash.

Stephanie watched Haymitch's jaw tighten as his eyes darkened; Stephanie felt her heart almost chill at the sight he looked so …deadly.

"What happened?" Haymitch's voice was too calm, too sober, too emotionless.

Stephanie shook her head slowly, raising her hands up to cover her face as the tears streamed down her pale cheeks in unchecked rivulets.

Haymitch pulled her hands away gently and took her face in his hands as he searched her eyes for a few moments.

Haymitch tilted her head slightly to place a soft kiss against the half-healed gash before wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

Stephanie felt more sobs build up in her chest threatening to choke her and she threw herself into Haymitch's lap; clinging to his shoulders for dear life as he held her against him.

He began to soothe her again as she cried; rubbing her back, running his fingers through her hair and placing soft kisses wherever he could.

After a few moments Stephanie's sobs trailed off into odd hiccups and he gently adjusted her so she sat across his lap and he could see her face.

"How did I get here?" Stephanie asked after a moment.

"Frenkin and I were just finishing and heading back when we saw the commotion outside one of the stores. One of Frenkin's stylists went down to find out what had happened. When he came back he said that you had been hounded by a crowd and had fainted. Isa had already left with you in the car and I raced back here," Haymitch answered quietly as he brushed her tangled hair away from her sweat dampened forehead.

"What happened to your head sweetheart?" Haymitch asked, pressing a kiss to her hair.

Stephanie sniffed a few times. "I fell…I think," Stephanie answered.

Haymitch continued to gently run his fingers through her hair and Stephanie began to feel an overwhelming sense of weariness come over her.

"What happened with the crowd?" Haymitch pressed.

Stephanie frowned thinking back and she gave an involuntary shudder. Seneca had been there. He had done this.

"I can't remember," Stephanie lied. She wouldn't let Haymitch get involved.

Stephanie recognised the sceptical glint in Haymitch's eyes but he refrained from asking her anything further.

Stephanie yawned, curling herself up more snugly on Haymitch's lap.

"You should get some sleep," he whispered against her ear.

Stephanie hummed in agreement, her eyes already shut.

She felt the pressure of Haymitch's lips on hers and she moved her lips against his, opening them slightly to deepen the kiss. The kiss was slow, caring, comforting, warm.

After a few moments she pulled away her eyes fluttering open lazily. Haymitch's eyes were half-closed as he looked at her.

"I love you," he breathed the words against her lips; she felt them as much as she heard them.

Stephanie smiled softly, "I love you too," and let her tired eyes shut.

…

_(Haymitch's POV)_

Haymitch lifted her gently and placed her on the bed.

Stephanie buried her head deeper into the pillows as he secured the sheets around her shoulders.

Haymitch pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Stephanie mumbled something incoherent.

Silently Haymitch left the room careful not to make any noise and wake her.

He shut the door tightly before leaning against it and running a hand over his face.

"Haymitch?" Frenkin's tentative voice called him.

Haymitch glanced over at Frenkin who looked with a worried expression between him and Stephanie's door.

"She's tired," Haymitch explained. Frenkin nodded though his wide blue eyes told Haymitch that he most clearly did not believe him.

Haymitch gave a sheepish smile. Frenkin nodded and with a small smile of his own he disappeared once more down the hall.

Haymitch gave a deep sigh before sinking down to the ground, leaning back against the door.

He hated not knowing everything. He wanted to protect Stephanie but he didn't know what was happening so he could do so.

Haymitch ran a hand through his hair frustrated. 'She damn well thinks she can protect me if I don't know anything' Haymitch clenched his fist tightly.

Sighing he got up and stalked down the hallway through the main room and into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of vodka from the fridge, twisting off the lid easily before raising it to his lips.

Just as the bitter taste touched his lips Haymitch slammed the bottle back down on the countertop. He couldn't be drunk in case Stephanie woke up and needed him.

A smirk pulled at his lips; he had never thought he would see the day when he would pass up a drink for someone else.

**Not a really eventful chapt****er but ********your thoughts are always greatly appreciated :)**


	32. Explanations

******Disclaim****er; I don't own the usual as usual**

**********DOUBL****E UP************DAT****************E; B************e sur************e to r************ea************d th********************************************************************************e pr********************************************************************************evious chapt********************************************************************************er :) I ********************************************************************************************d********************************************************************************e************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ci****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************d************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************e****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************d that this ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************chapt********************************************************************************er was pr****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************etty un****ev****entful too plus shorter than usual so why not post it b****efor****e things h****eat up n****ext ****chapt****er ;) **

**Chapter Thirty-Two; Explanations**

_(Haymitch's POV)_

Isa tottered into the kitchen breaking into a bright smile when she saw Haymitch.

"Isa what happened today?" Haymitch cut to the chase immediately.

Isa pouted for a moment as she thought.

"Stephanie fainted…nothing new," Isa finally replied with a casual shrug.

Haymitch clutched the bottle in his hand tightly.

"No Isa. What happened – everything that led up to Stephanie fainting," Haymitch knew that Stephanie only fainted under testing circumstances.

Isa frowned with a little whine stomping her foot.

After Haymitch remained un-budging Isa rolled her eyes and took a seat at the table.

"I swear Haymitch pet sometimes you can be so tiring. I wouldn't put up with you only you are so handsome. Well…let me see," Haymitch took a seat facing Isa as she began.

"We were showing off some wonderful outfits there was this one particular blue dress…" Haymitch cut through Isa before she had a chance to go off on a tirade about dresses.

"And what happened after that Isa,"

Isa chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"She was being interviewed by one of the reporters. You know Kad, such a wonderful man, does brilliant interviews and…" Haymitch cleared his throat and Isa glanced at him confused.

"Isa what did Kad ask her about?"

Isa began to trace patterns on the table with one of her nails.

"He asked her about the dress and what she thought of it. Stephanie thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Then…he asked her about her loves!" Isa's eyes lit up and Haymitch felt something like dread enter him.

"What happened?" Haymitch prompted.

"Well Stephanie denied having a love at first," Isa said.

"At first?" Haymitch interrupted.

"Well yes Kad weaselled it out of her…she has two loves!"

"Two," Haymitch repeated disbelieving.

"Yes she has one from her District but she also has one from the Capitol,"

Haymitch stared at Isa not sure what to think.

"It must be Dess,"

"Dess," Haymitch spat.

"Yes, well who else would it be?" Isa explained in an excited voice. "Well my pet I must fly I have appointments to attend. It's not easy looking this beautiful," Isa got up and skipped from the kitchen before Haymitch could question her any further.

Haymitch's thoughts raced. He trusted Stephanie and he had no doubt, he knew Stephanie had no Capitol love. But… the one hour that was missing from her story the other night and now what was this today? Haymitch ran a hand through his hair again in utter frustration feeling more confused than he did before.

…

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie cracked an eye open feeling slightly better.

She eased herself from her bed, hands outstretched in front of her as she edged her way towards the bathroom.

Stephanie turned the tap on and splashed her face with handfuls of cold water. She gasped sharply as the freezing liquid woke her senses.

"Are you feeling better?" Haymitch asked.

Stephanie jumped slightly at his silent entrance and turned to face him where he leaned casually against the doorframe.

Stephanie nodded gingerly walking over to him. She buried her face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her bringing his chin to rest on top her head.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Haymitch felt her shoulders stiffen and she pulled away from him, looking up at him with keen eyes.

"No," she answered softly.

He nodded and then smirked, "Nice dress sweetheart,"

Stephanie glanced down to see that her dress looked a complete mess.

She smirked. "Shut up."

Haymitch gave a low whistle. Stephanie glanced up at him with an arched eyebrow questioningly.

Haymitch reached out and picked up the necklace in his hand.

"Ficen really out did herself with these expensive rocks,"

Stephanie froze, cold fear shooting through her veins as it seemed the very air around her got thinner.

Haymitch looked at her curiously and Stephanie offered him a weak smile.

"I'm going to get changed out of these glad rags," Stephanie said, rubbing her arms vigorously to try and heat herself up.

"Are you okay? Really?" Haymitch asked gently, he brought his hand up to slide the back of his knuckles over her cheek.

Stephanie closed her eyes for a brief moment before opening them.

She nodded vigorously. "Yes," she lied.

...

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie sat on the bed hugging her knees to herself and before her on the bed lay the necklace that had caused so much uproar.

Stephanie clenched her jaw tightly as she breathed noisily. Stephanie had no doubt that Seneca was personally responsible for today's events and was most likely currently congratulating himself.

With an angry cry Stephanie grabbed the necklace tightly, ignoring how it dug painfully into the tender flesh of her palm, and flung it to the far corner of the room. It landed with a harsh thud and Stephanie stood feeling slightly better.

There was a tentative knock at the door. Stephanie went to it and opened the door abruptly.

Frenkin stumbled back a step, his wide eyes looking uncertain.

Stephanie's expression softened. "Hey," she prompted gently.

"Oh…I was just coming to say that dinner will be soon,"

Stephanie didn't respond just leaned against the doorframe with a heavy sigh.

"Are you…okay Stephanie?" Frenkin asked nervously.

Stephanie stepped out into the hall and shut the door.

"I'm okay," Stephanie reassured, "how about we go wait for dinner."

Frenkin's expression brightened and he nodded.


	33. Close Combat

******Disclaimer; I do not own the Hunger Games**

**Philippa; ********Don't worry Haymit********ch will b********e at th********e up********coming ****************************ev****************************ents & St****************************ephani****************************e will soon - I ********don't want to giv************************************************************************************************************************************************************e too mu********************************************ch away ;) an********************************************************************************************************************************************************************d Hayphani************************************************************************************************************************************************************e - that ma********************************************************************************************************************************************************************d************************************************************************************************************************************************************e m************************************************************************************************************************************************************e grin lik************************************************************************************************************************************************************e an i********************************************************************************************************************************************************************d**iot haha; **********************************************************************  
**

**Chapter Thirty ****–**** Three; Close Combat**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Dinner came and went without occasion. After she had caught Frenkin trying to strangle a yawn for the fourth time Stephanie practically ordered him to bed. She once more felt an almost maternal urge in her heart as Frenkin's drowsy eyes looked to her gratefully.

Stephanie walked into the kitchen to find Haymitch already there sitting at the table with a full bottle of alcohol in front of him.

"Where's Isa?" Stephanie asked, taking the seat facing him.

"She insisted on going with Ficen to finish your 'shopping' since you weren't able to," Haymitch answered.

Stephanie nodded mutely, her head still hurt a little.

"We need to talk seriously," Haymitch surprised her as he leaned forward eagerly.

"What do you mean?"

"Tactics, strategies…how we're going to get you out alive."

"Oh," it was all Stephanie could manage as she gulped. She had always known that this conversation was going to come but somehow it still shocked her.

"What do you suggest?" Stephanie asked meekly after a few moments.

"As regards to how to act - naïve, sweet, endearing. A simple District girl that is completely overwhelmed and in awe of the Capitol," Stephanie nodded in understanding.

"No sarcastic remarks and absolutely no violence under any circumstances," Stephanie rolled her eyes though she couldn't help a small smirk.

"And no flirting," Haymitch added gruffly.

Stephanie arched an eyebrow at him.

"I though flirting was considered a good tactic?" Stephanie teased with a small smile toying on her lips.

Haymitch cleared his throat awkwardly.

"You…couldn't possibly be…jealous, could you Haymitch?" Stephanie said, no longer able to stop her grin.

Haymitch threw her a glare. "No flirting," he repeated.

"From what the Capitol has been showing it has all been good but you are still pretty much unknown," Haymitch explained.

Stephanie cringed thinking that after today's events were shown that could change.

"The interview with Flickerman is in a few days," Haymitch said sternly.

Stephanie nodded, "What questions will he ask me?"

"We will have time to prepare for the interview but now…onto the next issue," Haymitch answered.

Stephanie gave him a questioning look.

"In the arena,"

Stephanie gulped hard. "We need to discuss this," Haymitch enforced gently.

"I know," Stephanie replied as she attempted to slow her breathing.

Haymitch opened the bottle and indulged himself with a few long drinks.

…

_(Haymitch's POV)_

"When you're raised into the arena, don't panic…don't look around at the other tributes and don't bother wasting your time on looking at the booty arranged ever so nicely in the Cornucopia. Ignore it. It's a death trap. You look for your escape route. If you see a forest run into it or any other means of shelter. You get as far away as fast as you can. Next thing is to look for water - remember where there are plants and animals there has to be water. Look for the greenest plants and things. I don't know what the temperature will be like but at all costs do not light a fire - you're going to have to stick it out. A fire is basically a spotlight showing every other tribute your position. Find a source of water, stay close to it but concealed…" Haymitch trailed off as he seen the overwhelmed look on Stephanie's face and how her hands trembled slightly.

Haymitch took Stephanie's hands firmly in his across the table.

Stephanie sniffed slightly. "It just makes it so much more real," she admitted quietly.

Haymitch squeezed her hands gently.

"But what am I going to do when it comes to fighting?" Stephanie asked.

Haymitch felt his throat tighten. He couldn't bear to think of Stephanie so defenceless where he couldn't protect her. He couldn't watch her die, it would kill him. So he kept telling himself that he would make sure she didn't no matter what, at all costs.

"Come on," Stephanie looked at him confused as he got up from the table and still holding her hand began to pull her after him out of the kitchen.

They passed through the main room, eerily silent with no one in it. They went into Stephanie's room where Haymitch closed the door.

Stephanie finally tugged her hand free and turned to face him with her arms folded. "Haymitch…?" she warned in a low voice.

Haymitch turned to face her with a gleam in his eyes and a smirk on his lips.

…

_(Stephanie's [& __Haymitch's slightly] _POV)

Stephanie felt her stomach do an odd little flutter but she managed to remain looking stern for a total of a few seconds because Haymitch' s next actions knocked the wind out of her…literally.

Haymitch lunged for her, bringing them both to the ground, where he hovered above her and pinned both her arms above her head looking down at her with a victorious smirk.

Stephanie looked up at him, her mouth hanging open and eyes wide.

"Do you mind telling me what in the hell you think you are doing?" Stephanie managed to sputter out after a few moments.

"You are in the arena…engaged in hand to hand combat…your opponent has you pinned, what do you do sweetheart?" Haymitch said.

"I don't know about in the arena but _you _are going to find my knee in your crotch if you don't let me go right now," Stephanie said, blushing slightly. She would never admit it but she had been hoping for a different answer from Haymitch concerning their current positions.

Haymitch rolled his eyes and released her wrists to sit down beside her.

Stephanie sat up and glared at him.

"You need to practice Stephanie," Haymitch said seriously.

"That is what next week's training will be for," Stephanie answered.

"They can't work miracles in one week Stephanie," Haymitch countered.

Stephanie sighed in frustration drawing her knees closer to herself.

"Haymitch Districts 1 and 2 aren't meant to be training their tributes but they do it anyway and the Capitol let it slide. But this…you training me while we are right here in the Capitol, you know they would not take it lightly, think what they would do!"

Haymitch ran a hand over his face, clenching his jaw tightly as he avoided Stephanie's gaze.

"I just can't bear the thought of someone hurting you," Haymitch admitted quietly.

Stephanie couldn't help the dopey grin that she flashed at Haymitch's words but soon she grew serious again.

"It's too much of a risk," Stephanie said.

Haymitch sighed dejectedly, his shoulders slumping. "Okay," he agreed.

Haymitch made to get up only to be knocked to the floor again, when he regained his senses, he found Stephanie straddling him and looking down at him with a smug look.

"Is one of the rules about fighting not to turn your back or be caught unawares type of thing?" Stephanie asked with a smirk.

Haymitch grinned.

"Well what are you going to do sweetheart?" Stephanie asked with an eyebrow arched challengingly.

No sooner had the words left Stephanie's lips than Haymitch grabbed her hips and immediately rolled over so that was Stephanie was beneath him again.

Stephanie gave a cry of surprise that was quickly stifled when Haymitch captured her lips with his. They broke apart after a moment and Stephanie looked up at him, a little flushed though trying to look at least displeased.

"I'm not sure that is a viable tactic," she said, biting back the gasp as Haymitch ignored her and continued to trace her jaw line with insistent kisses.

He paused, leaning back to look at her, his hair dishevelled. "Isn't it?" he asked innocently.

Stephanie couldn't help but smile.

"You know it isn't," she replied before pulling Haymitch back down to her.

Haymitch kissed her hungrily, Stephanie's arms slipping around his shoulders to pull him tighter against her.

Stephanie shivered slightly beneath him when Haymitch slipped his hands under her shirt to explore the silky smoothness as he traced patterns across her abdomen.

He groaned, his hands tightening instinctively as Stephanie pushed her pelvis against his.

Haymitch trailed a hand down, grasping her hip tightly for a moment before sliding down to clutch at her thigh. Stephanie raised her leg to throw it across Haymitch's hip.

Stephanie broke the kiss pulling away gasping as Haymitch smirked. Stephanie meant to push at his shoulder indignantly but instead found her hands beginning to claw impatiently at Haymitch's back.

Haymitch didn't seem to mind, moaning against her neck where he began to kiss firmly nipping gently as he moved lower. Stephanie's hand slipped into his hair, fisting tightly, her breathing accelerating. Haymitch could feel the moan vibrate in her throat as his teeth grazed the tender skin.

The ground should have felt uncomfortable but Stephanie didn't notice the hard ground digging into her shoulder blades, all she was attuned to was the steady weight of Haymitch's body melded against hers and his fevered kisses.

In much the same way Haymitch could feel nothing but the way his body reacted as Stephanie writhed beneath him, her legs embrace around his hips tightening with each movement sending a new shiver of pleasure along his spine.

That was why the sharp clatter of objects striking the floor startled them so much.

Within seconds Haymitch and Stephanie sat beside one another on the floor both looking dazed and flushed.

Stephanie's eyes were the first to widen in horror as her gaze fell upon the open bedroom door and the familiar clothes and pair of boots fallen to the ground forgotten.

But it wasn't Frenkin's nervously flushed face with his wide blue eyes that Stephanie saw but a face she had never seen before with a pair of soft brown eyes that were widened in shock at what they had seen.

The woman before them was dressed in Capitol uniform.

**Cliffhanger! Reviews are greatly appreciat****ed;**


	34. Deal with the Devil

******Disclaim****er; I don't own th************e Hung************er Gam************es**

**********************************************Past************elMonst************er; thank-you! :}**

**********************************************************************Philippa; No not Isa :P an************d look for a surpris************************************e n************************************ext ********chapt************************************************************************************************************************er ;) thank-you as always :)**

******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************Thanks also to my n************************************************************************************************************************ew favourit************************************************************************************************************************e Sol************di************************************************************************************************************************er of Passion an********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************d my n********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ew follow****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************er BooksFan101**

**AN; Finally sorry for ********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************errati********************************************************************************************************************************************************************c** up******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************d**at******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************es, hop********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************efully now that things hav************************************************************************e calmed down**** in my lif****e I will b****e abl****e to g****et som****ething mor****e constant again.**  


**Chapter Thirty-Four; Deal with the Devil**

_(Stephanie's POV - this whole chapter is her POV)_

Stephanie could do nothing but gaze in dumb horror as the woman stared back at them still sitting on the floor.

Stephanie immediately scrambled to her feet, Haymitch following suit.

Stephanie started forward a few steps, hand outstretched towards the woman half-pleading. Her mind raced, the woman was some Capitol worker, she would no doubt pass it on and there was one icy blue-eyed man Stephanie most definitely didn't want knowing about this, especially after feeling how cruel he could be when he pulled the stunt with the necklace.

The woman stumbled back a few steps, holding up her hands and shaking her head mutely and then she turned and fled down the hall.

Haymitch was out the door before even Stephanie.

They just turned the corner and after what Stephanie seen she wondered briefly if she threw herself hard enough against the window could she possibly fall out of it.

For at that moment, Isa, Ficen, Lashes, Bright and Silver all entered each carrying at least an armful of packages.

The girl stood frozen in front of the impromptu guests much like Haymitch and Stephanie.

'This is it' Stephanie thought.

Isa managed to peek over the mountain of gaudily wrapped objects in her arms to just see them.

"Well just don't stand there you imbecile! Help us!" Ficen barked harshly.

Stephanie ignored the insult and was about to go forward and help when the woman stepped forth and took the bags from Ficen without protest.

Isa shoved her armful on top of the woman without a second look.

"I swear, sometimes I think Avoxes are deaf as well as dumb," Ficen stated angrily to no one in particular.

Stephanie's mouth was still hanging open as she stared speechless at the back of the woman's head.

She was an Avox?

But of course - that was why she was in Stephanie's room; returning the clothes. Realisation dawned on Stephanie.

The other three stylists dumped their bags on the woman who could barely stand with the weight. "Hurry up and take them into the main room," Isa chided as her little entourage of five passed by making for said room.

"Oh Stephanie wait until you see what outfits we have got for you!" Isa called as she disappeared down the hall.

Any other time Stephanie would have been cringing at the thought that Isa had picked out something for her to wear but at the minute there were more important issues at hand.

The woman glanced between Haymitch and Stephanie frantically. A few locks of hair had escaped the distinctive yet plain white clip that held the hair back from her face.

Stephanie brought her hands up in front of her in a placating gesture.

"Please, we're not going to hurt you. We're from District 3...I'm a tribute," Stephanie added the last part hoping that the woman would see, that like her, Stephanie wasn't here in the Capitol by choice.

The woman swallowed awkwardly trying to balance all the bags in her arms.

Stephanie immediately stepped forth, taking some of the bags from her and Haymitch did likewise.

The woman was about to put up some sort of protest but finally her shoulders slumped in defeat, eyes trained on the ground below her.

Stephanie glanced nervously at Haymitch.

"What you saw…" Haymitch began warily. The woman's head snapped up, her eyes wide with terror as she shook her head violently whipping her shoulder length bronze hair.

"It's okay," Stephanie tried to reassure the woman again, throwing a quick frown at Haymitch.

"Please…don't tell anyone," Stephanie pleaded. The woman looked at Stephanie curiously and then glimpsed at Haymitch. She gave a curt nod and then brushed by them just as Isa called them impatiently.

Stephanie shot Haymitch a worried look not completely convinced that they had resolved the situation.

"I'll take care of it," Haymitch whispered quickly before they followed and stepped into the main room.

Stephanie dumped the bags carelessly on the floor ignoring the cries of protest from those already gathered.

She took a seat next to Isa on the sofa and Haymitch sat beside her.

Stephanie watched with growing anticipation as the Avox woman was rudely dismissed and disappeared out of the door.

Would she let anyone know about them? She may have been cruelly robbed of speech but there were many forms of communication and the Capitol presented mighty attractive bribes. Stephanie swallowed thickly.

She was broken from her thoughts by the material thrust into her lap from an overzealous Isa.

She groaned internally at the pink puffball. "Wonderful," she commented emotionlessly.

Isa clapped her hands giddily, her hands diving into the bags to retrieve another item. Stephanie craned her neck to look through the door the Avox had disappeared through moments before.

As she did so Stephanie caught Haymitch's eyes that were sending her a warning look. Stephanie turned to see four suspicious gazes trained on her.

Lashes', Bright's and Silver's gazes held a malicious glint as if they had caught her doing something and would tease her about it later like schoolchildren.

But once more it was Ficen's cold stare that chilled her to the very bone.

Stephanie turned giving Isa her full attention though she wanted nothing more than to curl up in Haymitch's lap and let him take care of things like he said.

How is he going to take care of things? Stephanie thought briefly.

Isa thrust a new dress at her and Stephanie held it up gingerly. It was an exact replica of the blue one she had been wearing.

Stephanie's brow creased in confusion.

"As you ruined the last one," Ficen explained accusingly. Stephanie resisted the urge to retort that it was she that had pushed her.

"This is the blue dress I was telling you about Haymitch!" Isa urged excitedly.

Haymitch's eyes drifted over the dress uninterested but he still plastered on a charming smile, a lot more convincing than Stephanie's. "I'm sure our sweetheart here looked the part," Haymitch said.

"Oh she was - she was a complete doll! You would never guess she is from those filthy Districts!" Isa replied happily. Stephanie caught Lashes and Bright snickering but she didn't have the energy to even muster up a glare.

"The dress goes perfectly with your new necklace," Silver interjected smoothly. Until then her stylist team had given her no real reason to loathe them except behave like children gossiping about her. However Silver's comment whether he knew it's impact or not had just landed himself in her top hate list right below Seneca then Ficen.

Stephanie was keenly aware of Haymitch sitting less than a meter away from her.

"Oh Haymitch pet I forgot to tell you the most interesting part!" Isa suddenly interjected.

Stephanie felt her heart sink to her stomach.

"Oh and what is that?" Haymitch asked with a bright smile. But Stephanie could see how his sharp grey eyes had narrowed almost imperceptibly and how his smile was too forced from the taunt pull of muscles along his neck.

"Our Stephanie pet received a wondrous necklace - very expensive! Custom made by the looks of it," the other stylists hummed in agreement with Isa. Ficen sat impassive.

"It was from her Capitol lover," Lashes added with a high pitched giggle.

Lashes was now beside Silver in her hate list Stephanie thought bitterly.

Suddenly Ficen stood startling them all.

"We haven't time for this nonsense. There is no point in showing these to _her _- _she_ will never be able to appreciate finery, after all she is only a simpleton from those dingy districts," Ficen's voice was louder even than usual.

Stephanie stood abruptly finally having had enough of Ficen. But before she got to open her mouth Haymitch was by her side one hand clamped tightly on her arm. That one touch was filled with silent warning and Stephanie immediately marshalled her anger.

Ficen had a smug look on her face. "I will dress you to look like an absolute goddess as is in my contract. I owe you nothing more nor will you get anything more from me."

Lashes, Bright, Silver and even Isa despite being oblivious most of the time were gaping at the exchange taking place in front of them.

Stephanie felt Haymitch tug on her arm ready to made a hasty exit, but Stephanie pulled her arm free.

"Deal?" Stephanie said, sticking out her hand to Ficen.

Ficen smirked and took Stephanie's hand firmly, a cruel glint in her eyes. "Deal."

Stephanie felt weak, nervous, afraid. But she also felt relief. The boundaries were clear now – she hated Ficen and Ficen hated her, whether it was because she was simply from the Districts or something more Stephanie didn't care.

Stephanie didn't get to see anything more of what happened before Haymitch ripped her hand from Ficen's and half dragged her from the room.

Isa made to go after them. Stephanie had never seen the escort look so serious as she did now. However she was stopped by Ficen, Stephanie couldn't hear the words but whatever they were was enough, for Isa returned back to the room.

Haymitch dragged her into the room where they had been a short while ago, under very different circumstances.

Stephanie couldn't help but grin wickedly. She felt almost a strange sense of liberation. While all the other tributes would have to go around grovelling after their stylists and pretending to admire the ridiculous works they called fashion Stephanie could look Ficen straight in the eye and tell her she hated her and all that she stood for.

However the grin was quickly wiped from her face.

"What the hell was that about?!" Haymitch demanded angrily not bothering to lower his voice.

"You saw. It seems I'm not the only one sick of keeping up pretences…if there were any even to begin with," Stephanie hissed.

"Not that! You're right I saw plain well how you allowed yourself to rise to Ficen's taunts. I have told you before to keep your temper under check!" Haymitch retorted angrily.

"Do not scold me like I am a child Haymitch!" Stephanie shouted. She didn't care that her stylist team and Isa were just down the hall.

"Well then stop acting like one!" Haymitch snapped.

"I wasn't acting like a child a short while ago in this very room beneath you - was I?" Stephanie replied in a furious and hushed whisper. She knew it was a low blow and she regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth but she was too stubborn and angry at that moment to take them back.

She stood tall with her arms folded angrily as Haymitch looked at her incredulous for a few moments, his face a mixture of hurt and disbelief. Stephanie felt a physical pain in her chest and she found herself wishing fervently that she could take the words back. But they had been said and she couldn't.

Stephanie watched as grim resignation settled across Haymitch's face; the words of apology stuck in her throat.

He pushed by her gruffly, heading for the door. She reached out to stop him but her arm fell short and the door slammed harshly.

Stephanie was completely still for about ten seconds before she ran and flung herself on the bed screaming into the pillow, punching and kicking the bed beneath her with all her might, not able to decide who it was most she wished she was hurting…Seneca? Ficen? Herself?

Eventually after her childish tantrum she had tired herself out. Not bothering to change she peeled back the covers and slipped under them still fully clothed. Her cheeks were puffy from crying and she sniffed pitifully as the image of Haymitch's hurt expression played over and over again in her mind.

Stephanie shut her eyes tightly until her head throbbed with the pressure. She swallowed thickly, 'this is all my fault.'

**I know cruel - but things always g****et wors****e b****efor****e th****ey g****et b****ett****er, ****eh? **


	35. A New Situation

**Disclaim****er; As usual I do not own th****e Hung****er Gam****es**  


******************Philippa; This ****chapt****************er isn't r****************eally Fr****************enkin POV p****************er say, but I will b****************e including it an********************************************************************************************************d his point of vi********************************************************************************************************ew on things** but maybe not for a few ******************************************************************************************************chapt********************************************************************************************************ers y********************************************************************************************************et an********************************************************************************************************d I hop********************************************************************************************************e it will liv********************************************************************************************************e up to your ********************************************************************************************************exp********************************************************************************************************e************************ctations :) & Thank-you :}**

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************Thanks to n****************************************ew follow****************************************ers Flyleaf Lover 13 & Ella-Starstruck & n****************************************ew favourit****************************************e Selenana**

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************AN; Sorry for ********************************************************************************************************d****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************elay - but I hav****e th****e n****ext f****ew ****chapt****ers**** writt****en & just waiting to b****e post****e****d**  


**Chapter Thirty-Five; A New Situation**

...

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie could have cried with relief when she opened her eyes the next morning and seen Frenkin sitting in the chair next to her bed fresh-eyed and twiddling his thumbs.

She nearly did as she shot upright in bed, tearing back the covers and practically throwing herself at Frenkin.

She could see the look of pure alarm on his face.

"S..St…Stephanie?" Frenkin stammered his voice raised a few octaves in surprise as he flushed scarlet red.

Stephanie pulled back and gave him a smile. "I'm sorry Frenkin. I just…ha, I don't even know anymore. I'm just real glad to see you," she answered.

Frenkin gulped and pushed the glasses up on his nose. "I'm glad to see you too," he replied.

…

_(Frenkin's POV?)_

A silence stretched on between them for a few moments in which neither knew what to do and so Stephanie began fiddling with the hem of her white shirt.

Frenkin broke the silence tentatively, "All the …arguing?" he chanced a glimpse up at Stephanie questioning.

Stephanie's long fingers had stilled and she was staring off into the distance.

"Nothing for you to worry about Frenkin," she replied eventually, a little too brightly.

Frenkin nodded hesitantly.

"I'm going to get ready, I won't be long," Stephanie said in a rush and with that she went to wardrobe, pulled out a change of clothes without looking and disappeared into the bathroom.

Frenkin fell back into his chair with a puzzled expression.

…

_(Stephanie's & Frenkin's POV)_

In the bathroom Stephanie scrubbed the remnants of her teary night from her face, her cheeks sporting a cherry red look by the time she had finished.

She pulled her fingers through her hair, cursing as they got caught in tangles. She deemed her hair fit and securing it atop her head with a few pins she found from the floor – no doubt from the previous nights, Stephanie stepped into the shower and out of it again in a record less than five minutes.

She quickly put on fresh underwear and then her clothes; a beige short sleeved blouse and a pair of soft brown trousers. She opened the door of the bathroom and sprinted out towards the wardrobe.

Poor Frenkin nearly jumped out of his seat.

Stephanie fell to her knees rummaging through the piles of shoes at the bottom. By the time she had found a pair of knee high felt tan boots, half the contents of the wardrobe where on the bedroom floor and Frenkin was staring at her as if she were some kind of maniac, not that she noticed.

Stephanie pulled on a pair of cottony soft socks and then the boots that fitted securely.

And all the while as Stephanie raced through the daily actions her thoughts were racing even faster still.

She needed to apologise to Haymitch. It was an undeniable fact that she had completely decided upon at about three in the morning after waking up shaking and drenched in sweat. She had wanted to do it right there and then but decided to wait until morning.

Her deal with Ficen – well…there was nothing she could do about it now. She could only hope that Ficen lived up to her end of styling her to the best of her abilities. Stephanie suspected she would, not for her sake but for Ficen's own sake. Ficen wouldn't want any of her designs to be anything less than perfect, even if Stephanie was the one wearing them.

Isa, Bright, Lashes and Silver all had been present for the very heated arguments. Stephanie could only once again hope that they hadn't heard that much and what they did hear they didn't understand enough of to connect the dots. She had a feeling however that Ficen would stop any rumours on that front, for she knew that Ficen would get in just as much trouble as she for letting a tribute be so bold.

Finally there was the matter with the Avox. Would she stay silent on what she had seen between her and Haymitch? Figuratively speaking of course. Stephanie could only hope she would…again. She didn't like how much 'hope' she was meant to be having. And then Haymitch said he would sort it out. Would he still do it? And how on earth was he going to 'sort it out' anyway?

"Damn it!" Stephanie began to curse wildly as Frenkin stared at her in open mouthed shock never having heard such language in his life.

"I'm only awake and already I have a whole mountain of problems!" Stephanie stamped her boots on the ground in frustration.

Frenkin continued to look at her as if she were a lunatic.

Stephanie gritted her teeth together in annoyance giving herself some mental encouragement.

Frenkin was in a word…terrified.

Stephanie turned to him after rallying her spirits with a beaming smile only to find Frenkin staring at her and pale as a ghost.

"Frenkin what's the matter?" Stephanie asked as she crossed the room over to him.

Frenkin fidgeted for a moment.

"Are you okay?" Frenkin asked nervously.

"I've been better," Stephanie answered truthfully.

"Are you…thinking okay?" Frenkin pressed further.

Stephanie arched a dark eyebrow at him in confusion.

"Yes I'm thinking just fine," she replied.

"O..Okay then, sh..shall we go down to breakfast?" Frenkin offered.

Stephanie looked at him for a moment more confused before leading the way to the door.

Frenkin had a brief moment to wonder if she **_knew _**about the arrangements made overnight before Stephanie pulled open the door determinedly and stepped outside.

A split second later Stephanie was back in the room, her back up against the door, white as a sheet as her whole body quaked.

"Frenkin…!" she whispered fiercely.

"Y..ye..yes?" Frenkin stammered making his way hesitantly over to her.

When he was within arms distance of her Stephanie reached out and grabbed him by the wrist pulling him over beside her.

"Are you aware…?""she began.

"Yes I know," Frenkin said cutting across her.

"Why?" she asked, still deathly pale.

Frenkin shrugged. "Protection?" he offered.

"Frenkin they do not post Capitol guards inside the tribute's personal compartments. There are two guards outside my door and at least six more in this hall alone!" Stephanie whispered all the while her grip on his arm tightening, her nails digging painfully through the fabric of the purple shirt.

Frenkin was gradually able to pry Stephanie's fingers off his arm, wincing at the slight pain.

"I don't know. I just woke up this morning and they were there," Frenkin answered innocently.

Stephanie's eyes widened and suddenly her thoughts jerked forward. Who was it that had ratted them out? And ratted who out to be precise? And what exactly did they rat out?

The entire thoughts were far too much for someone who had just woken up and Stephanie leaned gratefully back against the door, looking even paler if that were possible.

"Please don't faint on me Stephanie, I'm not sure I could catch you like Haymitch," Frenkin begged.

At the mention of Haymitch Stephanie lunged forward gripping the front of Frenkin's shirt fiercely, half-lifting him of the ground.

Frenkin gave a small yelp of terror until Stephanie clapped her hand over his mouth shaking her head fiercely and gesturing to the door.

Frenkin was beginning to fear that he might faint himself. Where was the Stephanie that held his hand when he was frightened or held him tightly making him feel that he wasn't so alone?

Stephanie forced Frenkin to focus on her eyes. "Frenkin…where's Haymitch? Have they taken him?" Stephanie asked desperately.

Frenkin shook his head. "N..no, no. He's drunk," Frenkin answered. Stephanie practically dropped Frenkin to the ground where he managed to steady himself just in time.

"Drunk?" Stephanie repeated, tilting her head to the side.

Frenkin nodded vigorously, smoothing his shirt down with shaking hands.

Suddenly there was a sharp knock at the door and both Stephanie and Frenkin jumped simultaneously giving sharp cries.

A gruff voice called from the other side of the door, "Breakfast. Now."

Both Stephanie and Frenkin's eyes widened in utter fear. They stood frozen clutching each other's hands before suddenly the door shuddered as it was met with another series of loud bangs.

"Breakfast. Now." The voice repeated slightly louder.

Frenkin slid his hand into Stephanie's, gaining a small feeling of comfort.

Stephanie opened the door hesitantly to be met with the stern face of a Capitol guard towering above them. Both Stephanie and Frenkin cowered back.

The guard stepped back and gestured gruffly down the hall.

Stephanie stepped out into the hall pulling Frenkin along behind her.

Into the main room, past four more guards into the kitchen and there was the table.

Stephanie was currently hyperventilating; well that was actually an understatement.

She reached the table and felt the world spin around her on its axis before she was able to grip the table and stop herself from hitting the floor.

At the table sat Isa in her usual position. Haymitch was absent. And in Stephanie's usual seat was Ficen, sipping quietly from a steaming mug.

Why the hell was Ficen here having breakfast with them as if it was the most casual thing in the world?!

Around the table was stationed two guards imposing and intimidating.

Stephanie felt Frenkin's hand slip from hers and she was almost about to cry out for him again when she felt his thin arm hold her around the waist, holding her up as best he could.

Frenkin helped Stephanie into the nearest chair, one away from Isa and he sat himself down beside her.

Stephanie pressed her head into her hands, unable to comprehend what had happened in the space of one night.

How was she meant to get answers with the Capitol guards here? And further more why were they here at all?

Stephanie refused any form of sustenance until Frenkin was finally able to convince her to drink half a cup of weak tea. Her hands were shaking so badly that she had to set the cup down to stop it from spilling.

Frenkin's wide blue eyes were filled with worry as he glanced about the silent table guests feeling utterly helpless.

The new situation was going to change a lot.

**Review if you have the time - I always love to hear what oth****er p****eopl****e think :) **


	36. Elephants in the Room

**Disclaim****er; I do not own th****e Hung****er Gam****es**

******************Thanks to n****ew follow****er Rav****en-Th****ea**

**********************************AN; (not r****eally important but just in ********************************************c**as**e of confusion :)] - Nina, Kas & Wint = Bright, Lash********************************************es & Silv********************************************er **

**Chapter Thirty-Six; Elephants in the Room**

_..._

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie gasped sharply as Lashes secured the clasp at the back of her dress with a sharp tug.

Steadying herself for a moment Stephanie took a deep breath and stood up straight.

Lashes, Bright and Silver gathered up their 'instruments of beauty' as they called them, Stephanie preferred 'torture'.

"Ficen will be in shortly," Bright remarked quietly.

Stephanie gave a sharp nod and sat down defeated on the edge of the bed to wait.

She went over the situation in her head, trying to remain objective and clinical in her assessment.

Haymitch was safe she knew that much. He was drunk and passed out in his room but otherwise fine. She had been able to check on him briefly but unable to do much else with a Capitol guard standing at her shoulder. It wasn't as if she could wake Haymitch and say all she wanted to say so she had left him as he was sprawled on the bed, limbs askew, reeking of alcohol and generally looking haggard.

Besides she intended to try and speak with him later.

Today they were going for a photo-shoot, it was a rare event in that all the tributes, stylists, mentors, escorts etc. would be there. Stephanie only hoped that in all the chaos that would cause she would be able to at least have a few private moments with Haymitch.

From the few whispered questions she had managed to exchange with Frenkin on their way back to their rooms after the painfully silent breakfast Stephanie was none the wiser on the matter of the guards now milling about the place.

Isa did a remarkable job at not mentioning the huge elephant in the room. It wasn't as much that she ignored the guards just carried on as if it they had always been here.

The fact that her Bright, Lashes and Silver had not even spoken a word to her the whole time they had got her ready had made Stephanie feel extremely anxious. It wasn't that they hadn't spoken to her – they rarely did truth be told, it was that they didn't speak at all. They were unusually silent, only mumbling quietly if it was something to do with her styling.

Ficen entered the room slamming the door after her and Stephanie stopped herself from falling off the bed in shock.

Stephanie looked at Ficen curiously; her suspicions only grew every time she laid eyes on the stylist that she was responsible for the sudden guards and the unusual quietness of the other stylists not to mention Isa; who although babbled away happily had a sudden guardedness about her.

Ficen motioned for her to stand up and Ficen adjusted the high collar of the blazer she was wearing. Stephanie was dressed in some monochrome black and white colour schemed blazer and skirt combo today.

Bright had mumbled something about it not really mattering since she would be changing into different outfits for the photo-shoot.

"When you stand keep your shoulders back and your back straight," Ficen directed, pulling Stephanie's shoulders back sharply.

Ficen looked her over once more and shrugged.

"The car is waiting," Stephanie's head snapped around as a guard entered the room evidently waiting to take her down to the car.

Stephanie swallowed hard, throwing a directed glare at Ficen before following the guard.

Stephanie tried to look surreptitiously around her in the hopes of catching Haymitch, after all he had to be there today with them.

Frenkin appeared at her side as she reached the lift and their hands immediately sought out one another. Isa was waiting there already and began to compliment Stephanie's outfit and then Ficen's styling when she appeared a few moments later.

Stephanie looked eagerly down the hall for Haymitch but Isa began to usher them into the lift. Stephanie threw a frantic glance up the hall – where the hell was Haymitch?!

The lift ride down was a little tense with the two bulky guards even with Isa's constant talk.

The car as usual was waiting, but there were a whole line of cars, tinted windows reflecting the sunlight.

Stephanie gave a quick look around her, caught other such 'huddles' of people like her own made up of stylists, mentors, tributes, escorts and guards making their way to the other cars.

"Are you nervous?" Frenkin's voice sounded quietly in her ear.

She looked down at him for a moment.

"Yes," she admitted equally quiet, "but it will only be like the other events we have already been to," she added reassuringly.

"But all the other tributes will be there," Frenkin insisted.

"They were there at the party the first time," she reminded him gently.

Frenkin nodded conceding her point but Stephanie felt a bubble of panic rise up in her all the same.

With all the other anxieties Stephanie had barely the time to consider that like Frenkin had pointed out this would be one of the more 'communal' events. Stephanie didn't relish the thoughts of spending a day sizing up the competition nor was she in no mood to try and vie for the camera's attention.

Frenkin climbed into the car and Stephanie followed after him; Alba was already there and after Ficen and Isa got in the door shut after them.

"Where is Haym…everyone else?" Stephanie tried to sound casual, though she caught the corner of Ficen's lips tweak slightly in a smirk.

"Nina, Kas and Wint are following in the car behind us," Ficen answered.

"Along with my three little helpers," Alba added before he caught something displeasing on Frenkin's jacket and leaned over to swipe at it much to Frenkin's fright.

"Well that's everyone," Isa proclaimed cheerfully.

The car's engine started up, though it was so quiet it was really only a gentle hum. Stephanie's eyes widened.

The elephant in the room was practically doing somersaults and they were all tactfully avoiding it. Where the hell was Haymitch?!

Stephanie opened her mouth to say something about the evidently missing person that they all so conveniently didn't notice, when Ficen cut across her.

"Drive." Her voice was stern, her face even sterner as she directed a hard look at Stephanie that clearly meant 'shut up or regret it'.

…

They arrived at their destination a relatively short drive later, the whole way Ficen and Stephanie exchanging glares and comments that had obviously shrouded meanings and hidden jabs at the other.

Stephanie had tried asking where Haymitch was…numerous times only for Ficen to cut across her or give her an answer that made absolutely no sense.

Stephanie looked at Frenkin almost desperately. She had a horrible feeling like she was trapped in a conspiracy. Frenkin looked just as perplexed as she and that made her feel a little better; she wasn't losing her mind at least. But it did nothing to allay her fears for Haymitch; but he had been fine that morning!

She felt anger rise up in her, at what in particular she had no idea. So saying she stomped up to the building with unnecessary force.

She caught the concerned look Alba was giving her shoes and opened her mouth to practically snarl at him when Ficen once more cut across her.

Stephanie glared at Ficen; the woman was becoming entirely too 'convenient' in her appearances for Stephanie's liking; first at breakfast and every time in the car and now again!

"You will be registered as you go in, try and act in a least a civilised manner and not go about snarling like an animal. That is one of my finest designs you are wearing," Ficen told her sharply, directing her forcibly through the doors of the building.

Stephanie resisted the urge to claw Ficen's eyes out if only for the fact that it would prove Ficen's point.

Once inside the noise and commotion hit Stephanie immediately and she felt her stomach twist as she took everything in, even as she did so she felt a smaller hand slip into hers, Frenkin's eyes wide as saucers.

"Ficen pet where are you going?" Isa called after Ficen's retreating back.

But Ficen either didn't hear her or didn't care enough to acknowledge it and continued on walking as Stephanie glared at her tall form before she disappeared amongst the crowd.

…

_(Ficen's POV) _

Ficen stalked down the hallway, clenching her fists tightly feeling the artificial nails dig into her palms.

She paused in front of a mirror and smoothed down her cropped white hair. The hallway was empty, being as it was sectioned off from the main event and for a moment Ficen allowed her impassive mask to slip.

Her features contorted into a mask of feral anger and she directed a sharp kick at the wall with an inarticulate cry of rage.

"The sooner she is dead the better," she muttered to herself.

She whipped out the crisp piece of white paper that had been slipped to her discreetly by one of the guards earlier that morning.

She stared at it for a moment, her face blank.

_...Meet me in the control room in the building of the photo-shoot as soon as you arrive..._

Ficen straightened her dress subconsciously before stalking off down the _c_orridor to the control room.

**What do you think of Ficen's POV? Next chapt****er will hav****e a surpris****e also :)**


	37. Jealousy

******Disclaim****er; I do not own th****e Hung****er Gam****es**

**********************AN; I hop********************e this chapt********************er cl****************************************************************ears things up a bit :) **

**Chapter Thirty-Seven; Jealousy**

_(Ficen's POV) _

Ficen was just about to knock on the door labelled very obviously 'control room'. But then after all it wasn't as if anyone who would be considered a threat would be here.

The door was pulled open sharply and Ficen stood with her hand in mid-air for a moment before she dropped it.

"Ficen, follow me."

Ficen followed him into the room and past the screens that showed the crowds of people down the hall milling around and a few Capitol workers sat tapping away dutifully in front of screens.

He stopped in front of her and turned to face her abruptly in one of the darkened hallways.

"Seneca what is this about?" Ficen demanded.

"Is that anyway to speak to me Ficen?" he replied sharply.

Ficen cowered slightly. "No, I'm sorry," she apologised meekly.

Ficen; head stylist that could make hell freeze over with a harsh glare was reduced to nothing more than a timid woman in front of Seneca Crane.

"What is the situation in District 3's penthouse?" he asked.

Ficen looked at him dumbly, but his sharp gaze warned her silently.

Ficen swallowed hard. "I ordered in extra guards,"

"I know…Why?" he enforced through gritted teeth.

She looked over his shoulder concentrating on the dark hallway.

"Ficen," his tone was calm and controlled but there was an edge to it.

She couldn't tell him it was the only way to make Isa and all the others who had witnessed her 'deal' with Stephanie silent on the matter.

Little did Stephanie or even Haymitch know it but while they were arguing in their room and not as quietly as they might have thought, Ficen was arguing with the stylists and Isa.

Isa might be naïve but even this she couldn't ignore. They had wanted to report Stephanie immediately but Ficen had refused, convincing them that they would get into trouble over it all, something that any aspiring stylist or mentor could do without.

She had requested the guards in order to allay their fears and ensure their silence.

There was also another reason.

If Stephanie had of been reported she would have been brought before the Gamemakers to be given a formal warning. It would be too much hassle to get another tribute by this stage and they needed her well enough so she could participate so a warning from the Gamemakers was meant to scare the tribute into obedience.

However selfishly Ficen realised that Stephanie would be brought before Seneca…her Seneca.

Ficen had been in love with Seneca Crane since the day he had become Head Gamemaker but Seneca had only ever received her attentions with mild amusement and sure after one too many at one of the numerous Capitol parties he had tumbled into bed with her, it was evident that it meant nothing to him.

She had seen the necklace being given to her brother Cen at the boutique but did nothing to stop it. She sat back with a malevolent smirk as Stephanie slowly lost control of the situation and her panic rose and only when Stephanie was on the verge of collapse did Ficen go and drag her off the stage.

Stephanie hadn't been the only one to see Seneca that day.

Ficen's suspicions had been piqued with the dinner and the missing hour in Stephanie's story. Ficen was able to weasel the information out of Dess with promises concerning Stephanie and future events. Ficen was only too happy to see the sly glint in Dess' eyes as she wondered joyfully just how much Stephanie would suffer.

At first she thought that Seneca had just arranged the dinner because she was from District 3; he did seem to have an obsession of some sort with the district but at the boutique and then the necklace confirmed it. Seneca had some personal interest of what she wasn't sure in Stephanie.

When she had went to pick up the rest of Stephanie's shopping with Isa out of the corner of her eye she had caught the bloody-nosed attendant limp back into the store.

After much grilling and the attendant looking even worse than before he had finally confessed that it was Seneca that had left him like so and explained what had seemed to be the cause of Seneca's anger.

Ficen had went into a rage then. Seneca barely lost his temper over anything and here he was beating up attendants in allies because Stephanie had got upset? Ficen saw red.

She made up some story about the attendant smuggling weapons to tributes and watched with satisfaction as he was dragged off. She had to protect Seneca after all. And just for good measure she gave up her brother Cen also; Ficen had never really believed in the saying that blood was thicker than water.

And besides if Seneca found out that she saw the necklace being handed over and did nothing to stop it then Seneca would be angry with her. No, better to end it all before it could begin.

The whole time Ficen's anger and resentment of Stephanie grew and grew and though she hated to admit it; her jealously also. Why was Seneca so caught up with her? Arranging private dinners and giving her necklaces!

That was why she had lost her temper last night and things had got out of hand. And Stephanie's ever watchful guard-dog Haymitch had jumped in per usual.

Ficen suspected that things between the two were close, but she had of yet no proof, except the furtive glances they exchanged when they thought no one was looking.

Seneca's gaze had hardened even further as Ficen hesitated to answer him.

"I thought she was going to make an attempt to escape," Ficen answered.

Seneca looked at her in contempt.

"Are you really so stupid Ficen? How on earth could she possibly escape?"

Ficen dropped her gaze, feeling humiliated and with it anger curling up in a tight coil ready to be let loose as soon as she was free to do so. And she knew exactly who was going to be on the receiving end of it.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Get rid of them by tonight," he warned in a low voice.

"Could you not do it?" she asked suddenly.

Seneca's gaze hardened even further if possible.

"It is your mess Ficen – you fix it," Seneca snarled.

It confirmed what Ficen had suspected. If Seneca did so it would show particular attention or 'favouritism' on his part. She guessed that he probably wasn't even supposed to be here today. She had heard no one mention a speech or visit from the Head Gamemaker at today's event.

"Yes Seneca," she dropped her gaze once more. She felt her anger curl even tighter within her – why the hell was Seneca taking risks like this for?

"Now get out," Seneca brushed by her roughly and disappeared into one of the other rooms.

Ficen took a moment to compose herself and then left the room, storming down the hall.

The way things were going Stephanie would be lucky if she made it to the arena unscathed.


	38. Lights, Camera, Action!

**********Disclaim****er; I do not own th****e Hung****er Gam****es**

**************************Philippa; Thank-you & I ****************do** :}

**************************AN; This ************c**hapt**************e**r was m**************e**ant to b**************e** long**************e**r how**************ev****************er I was for************c****************e****************d** to **********c**ut it b**************e************c**aus**************e it was g****************etting too long; so this ************c**hapt**************er is pr****************etty un****************ev****************entful b********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************e************************************************************************c**aus******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************e** the more 'eventful' stuff is next **********************************************************************c**hapt******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************e**r :)**************  
**

**Chapter Thirty-Eight; Lights, Camera, Action! **

The noise it had to say was reaching extraordinary levels even for the amount of people crowded in the place.

They were currently still in a sort of reception area while Capitol officials made their way swiftly through the gathering crowd registering tributes as they came across them.

It was also duly noted that as the last tributes arrived, the doors to the building were shut and locked with Capitol guards standing on either side of them.

Stephanie barely registered the prick on her finger as she was counted in, Isa babbling away excitedly.

The place was overwhelming. The stairs were not too far away, the bannisters on either side of them huge metal contortions expertly crafted, yet if push came to shove (literally) they wouldn't stop you plummeting to the white marble floor below. Everywhere she looked Stephanie could see white doors, opening and closing with people rushing out of them. There was a hall to her far right ahead that the registered tributes seemed to be being ushered down.

Frenkin was pressed against her side; she could almost feel him trembling.

Stephanie looked around at this …pandemonium and thought one thing.

She needed Haymitch.

Both her and Frenkin's stylists were talking happily with one another, giving delighted squeals when they seemed to recognise people of note coming out of the rooms. Her stylists' silent spell this morning seemed to be forgotten at least Stephanie thought.

Isa was doing her best to point out famous stylists or photographers as they passed but Stephanie could barely hear her.

Every other stylist and escort in the room was doing the same for their tributes and it had to be said that a lot of the other tributes were a lot more talk-active than Stephanie or Frenkin. Though maybe it had something to do with the camera crews circling the crowd to get shots like vultures, who were also making as much noise shouting out orders and such. Then there was the Capitol officials talking and trying to get people to move. The high walls of the room seemed to reverberate every single sound tenfold so all in all there was a bloody huge din of noise.

A Capitol official spoke to Isa briefly and moved off just as quickly.

"What did she say Isa?" Stephanie asked the escort.

"She said move," Frenkin despite his little strength managed to grapple until he caught Stephanie before she crashed to the hard floor.

Stephanie righted herself, pushing herself off Frenkin for a moment and rounded on Ficen.

"What the hell was that for?" Stephanie snarled, hands clenched in fists by her sides.

She saw a couple of guards nearby drift casually closer to them.

Stephanie knew she hadn't a chance. This was Ficen's territory and boy did Ficen know it if the smirk plastered on her face was anything to go by.

"She said move down the hall," Ficen repeated loudly, her words surprisingly clear above the din.

Stephanie let out her breath through clenched teeth and then turned on her heel to make for the hall.

All the while she could practically feel Ficen's gaze burning a hole in her back.

They were shown into a large room that reminded her of the room they were shown to when they first arrived to be styled. It had individual 'stations' for each tribute and their styling team that were organised in a grid-like fashion. The room was white, walls and ceiling, the floor was checkerboard. Frosted glass changing screens with their district numbers on them gave their own area some privacy and when pulled out made the little area seem like a cubicle.

Ficen was already marching towards theirs and Stephanie followed her reluctantly.

She and Frenkin were facing one another but they only got to share the briefest of glances with one another before the screens were pulled across so they may change.

Stephanie noticed immediately the tense atmosphere in the way Lashes, Bright and Silver stood to the side awkwardly while Ficen pillaged through the outfits that were hung up on a rail in the far corner.

On either side of her Stephanie could hear the excited chatter of other stylists and tributes and it only made the silence of her own that much more peculiar.

Ficen picked out an outfit and immediately Lashes, Bright and Silver got to work on picking out the appropriate accessories to go with it from the other tables of things.

Stephanie obediently started to unbutton the blazer, slipping it from her shoulders and then unzipping the skirt and letting it pool on the ground around her feet which she insisted on doing behind the cover of the rail of clothes.

She took down the dress, it was long – to her ankles, with a huge split up one side to about her mid-thigh and strapless. Stephanie sighed; she would never understand why stylists felt fit to leave out what she considered highly important parts of her clothing, like sleeves and half a skirt etc. It was fitted and yet loose enough not to have her gasping for air. She was surprised that it was jet black as she had half expected it to be neon orange if Isa had chosen it.

She slipped it on over her head, tugging it down; it was made of some velvety material that was actually quite soft Stephanie conceded. There was some sort of silver design that ran the whole way up the dress in a thick band from just above the mid-thigh split until the top of her dress.

She was given jewellery, mostly silver and diamonds in keeping with the theme. Stephanie only hoped there was no powerful magnet nearby or she was done for. She had to wear crisp white gloves that went the whole way up to her upper arms and were a real effort to get on and off. Her footwear consisted of black shoes with a silver heel that Stephanie glared at.

A short time later and there was a smart rap on the screen that led onto the 'aisle' down the centre of the stations. A voice told them they had to be in room 107 in five minutes.

Stephanie fleetingly wondered if there were really that many rooms or did they just like to make it seem like there were.

Ficen 'shooed' or rather more along the lines of scared away Lashes, Bright and Silver to the said room to "prepare" she said.

Stephanie tried to ignore the charged atmosphere that resided ready to turn volatile and explode at one wrong word or movement.

She dropped her gaze to her hands, thinking how if Ficen didn't make a move in the next minute she was just going to get up and leave to try and find the room by herself.

Stephanie gasped sharply as the feeling of cold metal slid around her throat and she looked up, the colour instantly draining from her face as she recognised the silver and blue necklace.

"Isn't there a different necklace I can wear?" Stephanie asked testily.

Ficen smirked slightly. "What's wrong with this one?" she asked innocently.

"Nothing," Stephanie managed through gritted teeth. She got up and followed Ficen stiffly along to the said room 107.

Stephanie did her best to stifle the nerves but she just couldn't help the feeling of being disorientated and lost without Haymitch near to reassure her.


	39. Curiousity killed the Cat

**************Disclaim****er; I do not own th****e Hung****er Gam****es**

******************************Philippa; Thank-you (X****3 :P) I'm glad you're continuing to enjoy :}**

**Chapter Thirty-Nine; Curiousity killed the Cat**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie didn't see Frenkin, as female and male tributes had been separated to opposite sides of the building for the first few photo shoots, which Stephanie considered a little extreme.

Ficen and she waited outside a door in a long corridor of doors. At the end of the corridor was a huge window that stretched almost the entire length of the wall. Sunlight streamed in brightly through it making the clinical white corridor seem not as severe in a small way.

Stephanie couldn't help but think what might her family be doing back home in District 3 on a day like this, would her father be sitting on the porch? Would her sister have had her baby yet? Would Eldi be out playing? Stephanie sighed thinking of what Eldi would say if she saw all the dresses.

Stephanie's gaze drifted from the window and the sunlight streaming through it and her heart stopped.

It was Eldi.

Only she was a little older with wavy blonde hair to her shoulders. And then a cloud past over the sun and it waned in its intensity and Stephanie was able to see that the eyes that looked back at her were not Eldi's bright blue but a soft green.

As Stephanie blinked back the tears that had suddenly risen unbidden the girl across the hallway looked back at her with a soft smile.

It was then that Stephanie realised that she was another tribute and Stephanie gave her a hesitant smile back.

The girl was wearing a billowing sea green dress and she looked to be around Frenkin's age. The girl cast a nervous glance at Ficen who glared in response and then turned to rap impatiently on the door.

At the same time the door beside where the girl and her stylist were waiting opened and they were ushered in.

Bright answered the door a moment later and Ficen burst on it without waiting for an invitation, Stephanie followed after her.

The room was large and well lit with technical equipment everywhere, and a few unfamiliar faces were waiting expectantly for Stephanie.

Stephanie was terrible at photo-shoots and Ficen told her as much. They quickly ruled out 'seductive' as Stephanie flamed scarlet red, crossing her arms protectively across herself. 'Playful' or 'adoring' didn't work because of Stephanie's appearance, she hadn't got the right cherub face to pull it off. So in the end it was basically just stand still and smile while we try and make something presentable out of you. Stephanie was happy to oblige.

An unnecessary amount of photographs later found them heading back down to the styling station to get the next outfit.

A Capitol official announced that there would be a half hour respite so that photographs could be developed and the photographers could ensure their equipment was working correctly etc before continuing.

Stephanie sighed noisily, rapping her nails against the screen as she waited. The silence between her stylists was really beginning to irk her and Stephanie sent a pointed glare at Ficen.

"I need to use the bathroom," Stephanie announced getting to her feet; anything to escape them.

Ficen didn't seem in the least surprised or interested for that matter, merely went back to reading whatever it was she was reading.

Stephanie made her way down the aisle, trying to stride confidently despite feeling incredibly timid on account of her surroundings. After being given instructions on how to get to the bathroom from a Capitol official who had looked down her nose the entire time at Stephanie, Stephanie made her way along another hall.

Everywhere there were guards stationed, unobtrusively of course. Well as unobtrusive as a six foot bulky guard with a gun on his hip and no doubt other concealed weapons on him could be.

Stephanie felt a small regaining of privacy as she locked the door of the bathroom behind her and slid to the cool floor with a sigh.

She sat in complete silence enjoying the blissful solitude when she could let the worry show on her face of where the hell was Haymitch? And why were there guards in the penthouse?

The many panicked questions from that morning where beginning to slowly overcome her again when Stephanie heard a small yelp.

At first Stephanie suspected herself, but then there was another that she was sure she did not make.

Stephanie got to her feet, making the appropriate noises of washing hands etc before she unlocked the door and looked about the empty hallway.

Stephanie was just about to go back the way she had come when she heard the scream.

Stephanie stood frozen half-way out of the bathroom, eyes wide as she strained to hear anything else.

In the distance she could hear the steady hum of voices from those in the prepping room.

But the hallway was silent and…suddenly Stephanie realised – where were the guards?

She was pretty sure when she had went into the bathroom there had been at least four guards in the hallway and she was faintly aware of another one following her.

Now the hall was eerily silent.

Stephanie stepped fully out of the bathroom, letting the door behind her fall shut with a muted click that seemed deafening in the stillness of the hall.

Stephanie's heart sputtered as she heard…whimpering? Crying? Something along those lines that a wounded animal would make.

Stephanie glanced around her and already berating herself started to creep silently down the hall towards the sound.

Stephanie had no idea what she was doing or why she was doing it. But in her mind something that whimpered like that couldn't possibly pose a threat to her. If she had of stopped for a moment maybe she would have put more thought into where the guards had gone.

But she didn't.

With each step nearer Stephanie grew in confidence and her steps were bolder.

She turned the corner into …surprise surprise – another hall.

'It's like a damn maze' Stephanie cursed inwardly.

She walked down the hall a little pressed to the wall passing a few doors as she moved.

However the door at the end of this hall was slightly ajar, a hush of lowered voices could be heard muffled slightly by the door.

Stephanie paused. She knew this wasn't wise; she couldn't hear any whimpering now just quiet wisps of voices that while she couldn't catch any particular words had undeniable Capitol accents.

Stephanie was just beginning to edge backwards down the hallway as fast as she dared, eyes trained on the door when suddenly the door was pulled open sharply.

Stephanie was ready to turn and make a dead break for it and sprint as fast as she could; her body having been in preparation for flight since she had heard the scream.

But then her eyes went wide with horror and her stomach twisted and knotted, her breath stolen from her, legs like liquid.

It was Cen, the stylist at the boutique.

But his white hair was matted now with blood, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle as his eyes stared at her unseeing.

Stephanie couldn't speak; she faintly recognised that as the guards had spotted her they had shouted orders and were heading fast towards her to apprehend her.

Why was he here? What had happened to him? Stephanie's lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen.

Her vision was blurring and she collapsed readily against the wall.

She could feel the tremors shake her whole body as she slid down the wall. She felt her arms grabbed roughly where she was hauled to her feet.

But then there was a voice.

But it couldn't be him?

The hands immediately released her and she fell backwards only to be caught in his arms.

Instinctively she clutched his shoulders – anything to get her balance as hysterical sobs began to build in her chest.

She looked up once and met his ice blue eyes before her consciousness was stolen from her and Stephanie fainted in Seneca's arms.


	40. Unforeseen Circumstances

******Dis****claim****er; ********Do I r****************eally n****************e****************e************************************************************************d** to k**************e****************ep doing this? If you ************************************************************************d**on't know by now that I don't own th**************e Hung****************er Gam****************es, w****************ell I'm** **flattered**** but ...nop****************e :(**

**************Philippa; I wat************ch****************************************e********************************************************************************************************************************d************************************************************************ th********************************************************************e vi********************************************************************************************************************************d********************************************************************eo...LOL, I hop********************************************************************e you w********************************************************************er********************************************************************e fin********************************************************************e aft********************************************************************erwar********************************************************************************************************************************d**s :P & Thank-you :)

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************Thanks to n************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ew follow************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************ers; Kimberlea**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************** & bby****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************d************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************evil21**

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************AN: Sorry for long wait; I ha****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************d a ba****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************d ****************************c**as**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************e** of writer's block.  


**Chapter Forty; Unforeseen Circumstances**

_(Seneca's POV)_

Seneca suffered a brief moment of uncharacteristic shock before he was able to get his emotions under control and taking Stephanie up in his arms, straightened his back to look down the hall at the gathered guards.

"What is this?" Seneca demanded.

The guards in front of him shifted awkwardly exchanging glances.

Seneca's gaze fell on the lifeless body of Cen just past the open door.

"What is he doing here?"

There was more awkward shuffling.

"He said that his sister was Ficen the stylist. He said that if he could speak with her he could straighten things out, but then Ficen refused to see him and he tried to escape…"one of the guards answered.

"And are you in the habit of granting prisoner's requests?" Seneca barked.

A few of the guards flinched and there were a series of mumbled "no sir's."

Seneca threw one more distasteful glance at the stylist's body.

"Get rid of it and send Ficen down here immediately," Seneca ordered.

"Yes Sir, right away," two of the guards disappeared back into the room and closed the door while another two disappeared down the hall towards the prepping room to fetch Ficen.

"And what about her sir, I'm afraid she seen him," the guard gestured to Stephanie's lifeless form in Seneca's arms and then back to the closed door that concealed Cen.

"I'll take care of her," Seneca enforced in a warning tone.

The guard and his remaining companion threw a puzzled glance at Seneca before nodding hesitantly.

"Open that door," Seneca ordered and the guard nearest complied, opening the door to one of the other rooms in the hall. It was one of the smaller photo studios.

Seneca paused at the threshold of the door, Stephanie still limp in his arms, her face pale against his shoulder.

"And make sure that information on this _occurrence _goes no further, or perhaps I will be forced to look into why a prisoner was allowed to leave the secure facility, for I have no doubt that bribes were involved," Seneca threatened.

The guard seemed riled for a moment, ready to vehemently deny it but an icy glare from Seneca silenced him and he merely nodded his consent.

Seneca entered the room, kicking the door shut behind him and making his way over to the sofa in the room, he set Stephanie down on it.

Seneca frowned down at Stephanie who still remained unconscious. A fainting tribute? She'll not survive the bloodbath Seneca thought and with that thought came a growing frustration that Seneca found he couldn't justify.

There were two sharp raps at the door and Ficen opened it after a pause with a somewhat hopeful expression that hardened and her eyes narrowed dangerously when she saw Stephanie lying still on the sofa.

"Get in and close the door. Ensure we are not disturbed," Seneca directed his last order at the guard and then not bothering to wait for Ficen turned his back to her and knelt down beside the sofa.

Ficen appeared by his side a few moments later, grim faced and jaw clenched.

"Does this happen often?" Seneca asked, eyes trained on Stephanie's face.

Ficen took a while to answer but when she did her face was an emotionless mask.

"Yes. She is forever fainting when situations become too taxing for her to cope with," a hint of smug satisfaction entered Ficen's tone.

Seneca cast a sidelong glance at her.

"Fine. Return to whatever you were doing and cover her absence until she returns. I trust I don't need to tell you that this stays between us," Seneca said, standing.

Ficen wasn't prepared enough and her mouth dropped open, eyes widening in shock. Ficen recovered herself after a moment.

"Surely Seneca it would be better to leave her with me!" Ficen managed.

Seneca gave Ficen a hard look. "I need her alive," he commented dryly.

Ficen dropped her gaze, her fists clenched so tightly by her sides that there was almost audible cracks as the false nails snapped under the pressure against her palms.

"Yes Seneca," Ficen agreed. Seneca gave a slight smirk, even after all this time Ficen would still do anything he told her to.

"Good - now go," Ficen practically ran for the door, wrenching it open and fleeing the room.

Seneca turned back to Stephanie and watched her for a few moments before with a frustrated sigh he went over and nudged her shoulder. He could only begin to imagine what her reaction would be when she woke up. He gritted his teeth, if she so much as thought of screaming…But then, he reminded himself; she wasn't afraid of him.

He cursed his own stupidity as he sat himself down on the sofa beside her still form.

He had been too busy watching her that he failed to see when the guards had brought that stylist Cen in. He had only noticed when the guards had suddenly disappeared from the corridor where Stephanie was. Recognition had dawned sickeningly on Seneca at the sight of Cen then and he had raced down towards the guards. He was delayed by having to take the circuitous route to avoid being seen and so didn't see Stephanie go on her curious little detour. It was as much to his surprise as hers he suspected when he rounded the corner and there she was quaking, her face drained of colour being held up by two guards.

Presently he heard a few muffled curses sound from her beside him and she turned violently nearly pushing him off the sofa.

He grabbed her wrist tightly and suddenly her eyes flew open, wide and stark with fear.

…

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie for a split second considered she must be dreaming. It wouldn't be a strange dream or rather nightmare to see the face of her would-be murderer?

But the pressure around her wrist and the general aroma of light aftershave drifting to her told her this was no nightmare. It was too real.

She wrenched her arm free and Seneca stood immediately, staring at her impassively as she took a few moments to try and compose herself, trying to still the tremors.

Stephanie sat up sharply, her thoughts immediately zeroing in on what had caused her to faint. Cen. Stephanie was terrified. Cen had only been the stylist at the boutique she had went to and he was…he was…dead. Stephanie raised a shaky hand and pressed it to her mouth as her stomach retched violently, the image of Cen; bloody and broken swimming to the forefront of her mind.

She tried to reassure herself, all the while reminding herself how futile and possibly dangerous it would be to start wailing like a child for Haymitch.

But damn it she needed Haymitch more than ever. Where the hell was he?

It was one thing seeing bloody murder on a television screen but there right in front of her; glassy eyes screaming silent warning – and further more someone she knew and had spoken with – no matter how briefly!

He had been in front of her yesterday, his hand warm in hers as he had shook it in the boutique but now…his heart had stilled and he lay lifeless a few rooms away.

Stephanie clutched the arm of the sofa; shutting her eyes, hand still pressed to her mouth.

But panic still reigned supreme in her, Cen was dead – why? Had it anything to do with her? What if they were going to kill her? Was she going to be another body broken and bloodied hidden behind doors? The longer she stayed in this toxic Capitol she felt she could almost feel its poison seeping into her, tainting her.

But – no! Stephanie forced herself to think rationally. Cen could have done any number of other things that would have warranted…this. It didn't mean it had anything to do with her, but if she started acting panicked and frightened then they might grow suspicious of her.

Stephanie forced the tears back, drying her palms as discreetly as she could on her dress before raising her shaky gaze to meet Seneca who stood impatiently waiting, arms folded, looking at her sternly.

For a moment Stephanie feared he would strike her; brief flashes of their last meeting running through her mind.

…

_(Seneca's POV)_

"Finally," he muttered when he seen she had calmed down.

She threw a glare at him, though it lacked its usual intensity given she still remained pale and shaking on the sofa; her gaze was roaming over the room wildly as if trying to ascertain an escape route.

Seneca sighed before turning to stride over to one of the tables and retrieve one of the bottles of water he had spied on it. It wouldn't do to have her fainting again.

He picked up the bottle and glancing sceptically at the label, called over his shoulder distractedly, "You are quite safe here, so you can relax."

He gave a slight start as she gave a sudden hard laugh. Seneca turned sharply. She was smiling brightly at him but her eyes held no mirth.

"Safe?" she repeated the word with contempt. "Is it possible to be safe in a place like this?" she asked.

Seneca frowned. He thought about growing up in the Capitol, full of its false smiles and people like Ficen who would hand over their own brother to certain death. He had known it as soon as the guard had said that Ficen had refused to see Cen, he knew immediately that Ficen had a larger part to play in this than she was letting on.

Seneca made his way slowly back to Stephanie, bottle of water in his hand. Why was it that Stephanie was always so accurate in everything she said Seneca thought?

Seneca decided that he didn't like that bright smile that didn't reach her eyes, that …Capitol smile of falseness on Stephanie's lips. She didn't belong in the Capitol, she was too…honest? - Too good to believe that people would hurt…kill one another just because they could.

Stephanie accepted the water hesitantly from him and he sat down beside her, noticing how she discreetly tried to edge away from him.

She glanced at the bottle suspiciously, raising it tentatively to her lips.

'If I wanted to kill you, do you really think I would have to go to the trouble?' Seneca thought but something stilled him from saying the remark out loud. She had had enough of a fright already. But what did he care? – Where had that thought come from?

Seneca cleared his throat and she flinched slightly, casting him a fleeting glance from beneath her lashes while she took a long drink.

"What do you think you were doing?" he asked; his tone was calm yet there was a cold edge to his voice.

Immediately he saw how her shoulders stiffened, and slowly setting the bottle on the ground she got to her feet, walking forward seemingly aimlessly but all the same in the direction of the door.

"There are guards at the door," he reminded her.

Stephanie immediately whipped around, her eyes bright and blazing, mouth set in a determined line and folding her arms protectively over herself.

"I don't need to run from you," she bit back sharply.

He was almost waiting for a slap or a kick, but she remained still and standing a few feet in front of him, an eyebrow arched challengingly.

Seneca couldn't help but smile at the return of her fiery self, her previous fear seemingly forgotten – though…not entirely, he could still see it in the slight tremble of her eyes though she fought to supress it admirably.

**Thanks to all those that continue to read; I hop****e you ****continue to ************enjoy :) **


	41. New Feelings

******DOUBL****E** UP**DAT****E**! - Mak**e sur****e to r****ead pr****evious chapt****er! :)**

**Chapter Forty-One; New Feelings**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

'That infuriating…!' Stephanie's thoughts trailed off into a series of foul curses as she saw Seneca smirking at her rather smugly, her own expression only darkening.

And then suddenly it was as if someone had turned a switch off in him, the change was so sudden, his arrogant expression fell, and for a moment he looked incredulous.

"You are wearing it?" he remarked quietly.

Stephanie arched an eyebrow at him in confusion.

"The necklace," he clarified.

Stephanie felt cold tendrils of ice curl around her heart as suddenly the necklace around her throat seemed to tighten, to grow heavier, to grow colder and hotter all at once.

"It wasn't by choice," she replied angrily, a painful reminder of the calamity caused by it.

Seneca said nothing, just stared at her dubiously.

Stephanie chanced a discreet glance at the door. What if she made a run for it? But no – he had said there were guards; could she really chance it?

"I suppose you thought it a very entertaining show to watch other's suffering. I thought it might get tiring after a while," her words were like acid, eyes smouldering darkly.

At that Seneca seemed to be broken from whatever trance he had entered and he stood abruptly, straightening his blazer.

Stephanie forced herself not to step back when he began to approach her.

"I meant it as a private gift," he said, his gaze drifting to her throat. What was that tone to his voice…it was something almost like…regret? Something apologetic? Sincere?

Now it was Stephanie's turn for her expression to fall to one of incredulity.

"A gift?" her voice was uncertain, and she clenched her fists tighter in annoyance at how weak it sounded.

Seneca's eyes snapped up to hold hers for a moment.

"One to express thanks," he said.

Stephanie's anger lessened, if only because it was slowly being replaced by utter confusion.

She dropped her gaze to the small stretch of floor between them, feeling her cheeks flush, his gaze was too sharp on her, it made her feel…exposed.

Stephanie fidgeted slightly…what was she meant to say?

"Don't you want to know what for?" he asked.

Stephanie looked up at him then, able to hear the baiting tone to his voice.

"I don't care, you can keep your necklace!" and with that Stephanie raised her hand and tore the necklace from her throat ignoring the sharp tears across her skin. She threw the necklace to the floor between them where it broke apart into multiple pieces in an impressive little rain of diamonds and sapphires.

For a few moments the only sounds were Stephanie's ragged breathing and the sporadic clatter as the gems on the floor settled. Stephanie could already feel a few warm wet trickles on her neck where they had cut into her skin.

…

_(Seneca's POV)_

Seneca controlled his breathing while the room fell silent. His eyes were trained on Stephanie who stood before him, barely holding back tears and breathing heavily.

If anyone else had reacted that way with a gift he had given them, they would have found themselves very sorry indeed.

"It was worth a lot of money," he finally remarked with forced casualness.

"I don't care," Stephanie immediately answered.

"Your family must need for nothing then," he sneered sarcastically.

Stephanie's face was blank for a moment as though she hadn't considered that option that the necklace could be of benefit to her family.

"I don't want your blood money," she replied coldly.

"Blood money?"

"Those who live in the districts will have no doubt slaved away to make your precious necklace, perhaps even my own family, I will not profit from their suffering," Stephanie replied, her voice was quiet, her gaze dropped as she was no doubt trying to conceal tears.

…

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie kept her gaze down, desperately trying not to let the tears fall, she took a few steadying breaths.

How she wished Haymitch was here; Stephanie felt that she had never needed someone as much as she did then. She felt so weary and the need for human comfort was weakening. She had been so sorely tempted…

Stephanie felt another wave of hot shame crash over her.

She couldn't admit it but she only barely stopped herself from gathering up the coveted jewels in her hands when Seneca had told her of his reasoning behind the gift.

She loved her family dearly and all she could think of was how much food she could buy with one of those small stones that could fill Eldi's stomach and her little face, how much she could provide for the little one to come, how much expensive medicine she could buy for her father to stop the ulcers that would plague him where there was nothing but scarred expanse where his arm once was. It didn't matter that it was people just like her that had been forced to make the ridiculously lavish gift, people with starving families who had to work to make the necklace.

Was it so wrong of her to be so selfish? To want to help her family above all else.

Stephanie wasn't so sure that if it had of been anyone but Seneca that she would had left the gems were they lay scattered on the floor.

But Stephanie could not…she would not let him have the satisfaction to watch her crawl on her hands and knees scrabbling after the gems on the floor and so she left them.

"I have to get back," Stephanie raised her head confidently, jaw clenched tightly. She felt like breaking down but she would be dead before she would let Seneca see her like that; he had already seen her vulnerable when she fainted.

Seneca held her gaze for a moment silently, before he shrugged nonchalantly and gestured to the door.

Stephanie tried not to run for the door as she strode past him, to try and not look at the sparkling and taunting jewels on the floor as she passed them, but just as she went by him Seneca gripped her elbow tightly, stopping her in front of him.

She glanced up at him, furious; ready to strike him if need be, to hell with the guards…! But his gaze stopped her.

…

_(Seneca's POV)_

Seneca looked into her eyes searching. He had given her a chance to feed her family and she …refused. In the districts food could mean life or death. If someone had offered him the chance to save Lark he would have done anything and yet she…

That proud stubborn…! And yet he couldn't help but admire her, even more so because of the dampness on her cheeks that testified to how hard a decision it was.

His grip on her arm loosened a little.

He raised a hesitant hand up to brush the tears that still clung stubbornly to her lower lashes.

She stiffened immediately after her initial flinching when he had raised his hand.

Confusion flooded her features.

Seneca's fingers stilled on her cheek; she was so close. Her bottom lip trembled a little like she was desperately trying to hold back.

And for the first time Seneca felt something he never had before.

Seneca felt sympathy for a tribute, he actually felt…regret that he might possibly be responsible for her death in a few weeks.

He felt…he didn't want her dead?

Suddenly just as he seemed to be gravitating ever closer Stephanie wrenched her elbow free from his slack grasp.

Seneca took a moment before he schooled his features into a cold mask of indifference, supressing the tide of swirling emotions that were so new and foreign to him.

"You never saw me here," he enforced.

Stephanie held his gaze defiantly for a moment before nodding her consent, her own gaze seemed troubled.

Seneca called harshly for a guard and ordered that Stephanie be brought back to the prepping station where Ficen was and as he watched her go out the door, she never looked back once.

Seneca smirked. She was stubborn to the last that much was true.


	42. Alone

******Disclaimer; I don't own anything you recognize from Suzanne Collins work**

**Chapter Forty-Two; Alone**

_(Stephanie's POV - whole chapter)_

Stephanie almost staggered back to the prepping room. She received suspicious glances from the guards and raised many a curious glances from those that they passed.

Walking blindly with a vacant expression and red streaks down her pale neck; she was bound to raise a few eyebrows.

When Ficen seen her she had immediately dismissed Bright, Lashes and Silver, her own eyes widening in horror while her nostrils flared with anger.

Behind the cover of the screen she forced Stephanie to sit, styled nails or what few remained digging into her skin.

Stephanie sat, her gaze far off, feeling incredibly numb.

"What the hell do you think you are playing at? Are you deliberately trying to draw attention to yourself?" Ficen's vicious whispers went unheeded by Stephanie and it didn't seem as though Ficen wanted answers.

Ficen went about her work, applying a poignant gel to the scratches at her throat not bothering to clean up the traces of blood, but smearing it generously.

Stephanie wrinkled her nose at the strong scent and raised her hand to scratch it when she felt the dampness of her cheeks and she realised with a start that she was crying.

And then Stephanie felt the sobs build up in her chest and when Ficen turned to her again armed with brushes and creams she found Stephanie with a steady stream of tears blotching her cheeks, biting her knuckles to try and choke back the sobs.

Ficen's left eye twitched slightly in annoyance as she pursed her lips.

Stephanie spared her a glance. Ficen was infuriated; she had no time for Stephanie and her tears.

Stephanie hated feeling so pitiful in front of Ficen, who she knew would only look on it another sign of her weakness, but try as she might…Stephanie couldn't stop.

Stephanie choked back another sob and sniffled pitifully. Ficen slammed her gathered accruements down on the nearby table with a muttered curse. It only made Stephanie want to cry harder.

She had never felt so alone.

So desperately in need of someone. Anyone. Haymitch.

What she wouldn't give to be back home in District 3 where she could run into her mother's arms where even now as a grown girl, even after all that she had seen…she would still feel safe.

She felt her chest constrict painfully; restrained sobs making her lungs burn. Her vision was blurred over but she couldn't see anything anyway because her head was lowered, her forehead almost touching her knees, one arm around her own waist in attempt to hold herself together.

"When you stop your whimpering we have a photo shoot to get to!" Ficen growled harshly, her fist tightening and loosening in an attempt to stop from striking Stephanie.

There was a knock at the screen and without waiting the person came on in. It was Alba, Frenkin's stylist.

"We are ready for the joint photo shoot, how…" Alba's voice trailed off as his sight landed on Stephanie. "Oh, well this won't do at all – what's the matter with her?" Alba directed his question to a highly annoyed Ficen.

"Stephanie!" the familiar fair head peeped around the screen, wide blue eyes flooded with concern.

Frenkin rushed over to Stephanie, hesitated briefly for a shy moment, cheeks tinting pink before he gently forced Stephanie into a sitting position and wrapped his arms around her.

Stephanie gratefully buried her face against Frenkin's waist, giving as she remained seated and he standing.

Frenkin simply held her, dropping a chaste kiss on her head, like she had so done to him so many times before.

Alba gave a whining warning of how Stephanie would ruin Frenkin's outfit before Ficen cut over impatiently, managing to keep her voice at a reasonable volume so as not to draw attention despite her obvious rage.

"Alba take Frenkin to the photo shoot and tell them that Stephanie cannot make it."

"No!" Ficen looked shocked for a moment at Frenkin.

"I won't go to the photo shoot without Stephanie," Frenkin was determined, his voice small yet defiant as he tightened his hold around Stephanie.

"What's this?" Isa appeared looked slightly flustered, eyes looking at Frenkin and Stephanie worriedly.

Ficen balked as she glanced about the now crowded cubicle; they were drawing too much attention!

"Out!" Ficen hissed, her gaze was livid but there was also a slightly panicked edge to her whisper.

Isa flinched, and then pouted looking very childish.

Ficen pushed both Isa and Alba out despite their protests. She leaned against the screen for a moment, before throwing a glare at Frenkin and a now calming Stephanie.

"Have her ready by the time I get back or you will be sorry," Ficen warned before she left the cubicle, closing it off behind her.

She could be heard giving some guards nearby orders to watch them. Stephanie rolled her eyes, as if they could ever hope to escape from here.

The thought threatened to make Stephanie lapse into another fit of tears again so she desperately pushed it away.

After a few moments of hushed reassurances Frenkin gently pushed Stephanie away from him by her shoulders to look down into her face.

Stephanie hastily scrubbed at her cheeks. Frenkin pulled up a nearby chair to sit perpendicular to her, waiting patiently.

Stephanie finally looked up, and took Frenkin's hand in hers, giving it a grateful squeeze accompanied by a watery smile.

Frenkin gave a half-smile in return, not so easily pacified.

"I'm okay Frenkin, just…"Stephanie glanced about almost desperately. Where did she begin? She was terrified; constantly filled with dread at each turn, with the crushing fear that her actions may result in something more than her own death. There was the added guilt, the painful longing for home, the familiar, the safe. The panic at knowing that she was practically heading to her death soon and knowing she could do nothing to stop it. How it wasn't just her family that she would be leaving behind anymore…but Haymitch; wonderfully annoying, perfectly drunk Haymitch who she was aware of more than ever how much she loved him. And Seneca just adding to everything with his confusing actions that held the power to destroy all she loved.

It was all overwhelming, it was all too much…Stephanie wavered slightly where she sat, her gaze becoming unfocused.

Frenkin immediately reached out to her, an arm wrapped securely around her waist, his little face creased with concern.

"I know…you miss Haymitch," Frenkin's voice sounded so much older and wiser than his years.

Stephanie looked up at him and Frenkin gave her a knowing glance and a small smile.

Stephanie dropped her head into her hands again as Frenkin rubbed her back soothingly.

She felt the need to apologise to Frenkin but felt the words choke in her throat. Apologise for what? I'm sorry you will die…?

But then what did it matter, the way things were looking, it seemed as though she may be joining him.

"Haymitch doesn't seem so concerned. If he was, where is he?" Stephanie's tone was bitter and childish but she couldn't help it. However there was also a hint of desperate pleading to her voice. It was plain and simple; Stephanie needed Haymitch.

Frenkin just looked at her with sympathetic blue eyes that only made Stephanie feel even more childish; here she was whining and blubbering and Frenkin was comforting her!

Frenkin no doubt had a family back home who he was missing terribly and who were missing him. And then there was the added…Frenkin's dismal chances of returning hanging over his head at every moment. It must seem that no one cared if he died; even his own mentor was with the other tribute! Stephanie choked back sobs, cursing herself for deciding that now was the time to get so damn emotional.

And even though Stephanie had told herself not to she threw her arms around Frenkin, crushing him to herself, "I'm sorry Frenkin…I'm so so sorry," sorry because she couldn't save him, she couldn't even save herself.

Frenkin after his initial shock patted her on the back, returning the fierce embrace. After a few moments they both pulled back, Frenkin's huge glasses were misted over slightly and he removed them bashfully, cleaning them with the corner of his blazer.

Stephanie sniffling wiped at her own eyes.

"They let you wear your glasses," she remarked with faux cheerfulness.

Frenkin nodded. "They say I look more innocent with them," and he placed them back on and looked up at her with a shy smile.

Stephanie felt her heart rip apart; innocent? He did look innocent. But how then could the Capitol want to destroy something so completely innocent. To build him up to show the endearing, kind-hearted, shy boy that he was just so they could watch him be tore apart like her heart was being.

Stephanie nodded jerkily, dropping her gaze to her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

"I'm sure he is doing something important that will help you," Frenkin said reassuringly.

Stephanie glanced at him puzzled.

"Haymitch," Frenkin clarified innocently.

Stephanie smiled weakly, feeling the tears rise again; trust Frenkin to always be thinking of someone else.

"Maybe you should get changed before Ficen gets back," Frenkin said, gesturing to the waiting outfit.

Stephanie nodded and got up shakily, Frenkin following suit, hands outstretched to steady her if need be.

Stephanie changed quickly, not bothering to take care with the delicate material.

She glanced in the mirror briefly; the dress was completely white, embellished with mother of pearl and other creamy gemstones. It was made of lace and silk; all the finest materials.

It was like a wedding dress.

Stephanie felt hatred leave a bitter taste in her mouth, her eyes hardening. But the Capitol had taken that chance away from her, like they were taking it away from Frenkin, and so many before them.

Frenkin handed her the veil and with gentle hands helped her secure it into her hair.

Stephanie grasped his hand as he finished fixing the veil at the back, she held it tightly, willing her voice to steady before speaking. "Thank-you," she said the words with as much sincerity as was possible, her eyes willing him to see how much she meant it, not just for today but for all the times he had held her hand, for Stephanie suspected strongly that she needed him much more than he had needed her.

Frenkin gave a small smile, a faint dusting of pink colouring his cheeks before he nodded.

Ficen entered brusquely then. Her gaze glanced over Stephanie then for a moment, before she wordlessly began to apply make-up to cover Stephanie's blotched cheeks, the gel having made the scratches on her neck all but non-existent.

Leaving the cubicle to go to their joint photo-shoot Stephanie and Frenkin without a conscious thought, simultaneously reached for one another's hands and when they met they shared a small fleeting glance.

**Revi****ew and l****et m****e know what you think...? :) **


	43. Time to Tell the Truth

******Disclaimer; Don't own a thing yada yada**

**Chapter Forty-Three; Time to Tell the Truth**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

The photo-shoot went without incident after that. Photos were taken, make-up was reapplied and outfits re-adjusted before more photos were taken. The process was repeated a few times before they were finally allowed to clamber gratefully into the car that would return them to the penthouse. Even the stylists looked exhausted this time.

In the car Stephanie and Frenkin sat together, her arm draped around his shoulders, his head resting on her shoulder.

Only Isa sat with them in the car and even her usual babbling had been reduced considerably.

Ficen and Alba along with the other stylists had gone off back to their own homes.

Home, Stephanie thought longingly. She would probably never see it again.

The car slowed to a halt and a few moments later the door was pulled open. Isa was first out and then Stephanie and Frenkin tiredly followed.

The lift ride up was silent and when the doors slid open even Isa could not hold back her small exclamation of surprise.

The penthouse was most notably empty. The guards were gone.

Stephanie felt relief flood through her.

Isa made her way to the main room saying something about calling someone to see about the photos and getting a sneak peek before they were released. The escort seemed notably more relaxed without the constant guard present.

Stephanie and Frenkin wordlessly made their way down the hall, separating when they came to their respective room doors, but not before Stephanie had hugged Frenkin tightly.

"See you at supper," she said quietly.

Frenkin rubbed his eyes tiredly and nodded in agreement with a sheepish smile before disappearing into his room.

Stephanie waited a moment, staring at the closed door to Frenkin's room before she crept down the hall to Haymitch's room.

She gave the door a soft knock but there was no answer so she opened it hesitantly.

Stephanie tried to assuage her worries when she had ascertained that the room was empty and most certainly devoid of any Haymitch.

'He would be back soon' she reassured herself and so she went back to her own room, collapsing gratefully onto the soft bed.

She told herself she wouldn't sleep; she would wait up until Haymitch returned – there were no guards to stop them speaking, but she was so exhausted that within minutes her eyes had submitted defeat and had closed softly as her breathing evened and steadied.

…

_(__Stephanie's & Haymitch's POV)_

Stephanie woke sharply, she couldn't remember what had woken her but she slipped silently from the bed anyway, approaching her room door silently, beneath the door she could see light and she could hear voices.

A feeling of cold dread began to settle in Stephanie's stomach as she warily eyed the door that was slightly ajar. The scene was too disturbingly familiar. Now that she looked around the room was beginning to look less and less like her room and more like a hall.

Stephanie felt ice cold shivers race along her spine, fear making her mouth dry and a cold sheen of sweat beading across her brow.

She reached for the door handle and gritting her teeth she pulled the door open sharply, not willing to prolong the inevitable.

Stephanie's screams filled her own ears as she shot up right in bed, the sheets tangled around her as she fought desperately against them, her heart was thrashing wildly against her ribcage, her blood pumping furiously against her fevered skin.

"Hey! Sweetheart, sweetheart…Stephanie calm down!" immediately Stephanie felt two steadying hands grasp her shoulders, pushing her back into the pillow.

Stephanie opened her eyes hesitantly, afraid of what she might see, but this was real and Haymitch was really here, sitting in front of her with his bright grey eyes crinkled with concern and his dishevelled dirty fair hair.

Stephanie lunged at him, knocking him backwards onto the bed. His incredulous laughter was cut off abruptly when Stephanie's mouth crashed onto his, as she kissed him deeply with a ferocity that left them both breathless.

He reluctantly slowed the kiss down, sitting up gently. When they broke apart he arranged Stephanie securely in his lap.

She immediately began speaking before he even had a chance to open his mouth.

"I am so sorry Haymitch, I was angry, proud, stubborn – wrong. I'm sorry, forgive me please…I don't …I …I can't lose you," Stephanie buried her face into the crook between Haymitch's neck and shoulder, nuzzling the warm skin and inhaling the familiar scent.

He held her tightly for a few moments before he felt the dampness against his throat that alerted him to her tears.

"I forgive you," he said, "and you won't lose me sweetheart…don't worry you won't be able to get rid of me that easily," he placed a kiss on her head.

She made no reply but her grip around his shoulders tightened.

"What was it about?" he asked gently.

She stiffened slightly but she remained stubbornly silent.

"You know it helps if you talk about it," he urged.

"Oh really, then why do you drink so much!" she pulled back to meet him frowning and folding her arms.

He gave a slight laugh, glad to see her like this and not so…afraid.

"Alright," he conceded.

Her expression softened and she kissed him soundly on the lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his lips.

He kissed her again before pulling back.

"This new apologetic side of you is quite new isn't it sweetheart?" he teased with a smirk.

She glanced up at him through lowered lashes, giving him a half-hearted shove before tightening her grip on him once more.

"It really does help you know, even if you don't want to. Burying it away deep inside and trying to forget about it won't make it go away, it will still be waiting there when you close your eyes…trust me sweetheart – I know," Haymitch spoke softly, brushing tender kisses across her temple.

She inhaled shakily for a moment, her eyes shutting and then she starting speaking, so quietly that he almost had to strain to hear her and every few words punctuated by her sobs.

"I'm in my room sleeping and then I wake up for some reason and I go towards my door because that is where…where the light…and the voices are coming from…but the nearer I get to the door it's…it's not my room anymore. And I open the door…and…and, oh Haymitch it's awful…" her voice finally broke as she fell against him and he held her, hushing her gently.

"There's you and Frenkin, and my mother and father, my sister Weisna and her husband Dar, and my brother and little Eldi and a baby and you're all…there's blood everywhere and you're all just staring at me…and I know…I know…that you're all dead because…because you're eyes are just like his was…" she was openly crying now, her words almost indistinguishable.

Haymitch held her fiercely, hating the Capitol even more than he thought possible. He soothed her as best he could, "Who's eyes Stephanie?" he asked confused.

"Cen," she wailed. Haymitch held her in his arms but he froze, his eyes widening.

"Stephanie…Stephanie…sweetheart," Haymitch held her gently out, brushing her hair back from her face.

Stephanie gave a few hiccupping sobs before her gaze focused on him.

"Stephanie, sweetheart…who's Cen?" Haymitch asked stroking her cheek gently.

Panic flooded Stephanie's eyes, "No," she breathed.

Haymitch frowned. "Stephanie, who's Cen?" he repeated a little sterner this time.

Stephanie shook her head, dropping her head in her hands in a hopeless gesture but Haymitch wouldn't let her, he gripped her wrists tightly though not enough to hurt.

"Stephanie you have to tell me…you have to let me protect you," Haymitch pleaded.

Tears spilled down over Stephanie's cheeks, "I can't lose you," her voice was so broken. It killed Haymitch to see her so weak, to know that he couldn't do anything about it. But no…there was something he could do about it, Stephanie had been carrying her secret burden for too long.

"I have told you – you won't lose me," Haymitch reassured, releasing her wrists to take her hands securely in his.

"I love you," her words were thick with tears but they couldn't mask the sincerity of her words.

"I love you too Stephanie – that's why you have to let me protect you," Haymitch pleaded again, his own voice becoming clouded.

Stephanie struggled for a moment more, tears streaming in fast succession down her cheeks before she finally nodded brokenly.

Haymitch almost heaved a sigh of relief, resting his head against her shoulder for a moment as he held her tightly to himself.

He released her slightly and nodded reassuringly at her.

Stephanie inhaled a shaky breath, drying her tears on her sleeve, "It all began at the dinner date…

**L****et m****e know what you think! **


	44. A Dam Broken at Last

******Disclaimer; I am not Suzanne Collins :(**

**(********Replies to r********evi********ews ********et********c**. at bottom - :})

**********************************AN; Th************er************e is a myst************ery POV at th************e ************end - who ********c**ould it b**********e? :O -Just kidding, you will all probably figure it out; just r************************************************************************************************************em************************************************************************************************************emb************************************************************************************************************er my littl************************************************************************************************************e AU fact from ****Ch19 ;) ********  
**

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Four; A Dam Broken at Last**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Before she had begun recounting to Haymitch everything - she had never realised how much she was actually keeping from him, how much she was trying to deal with on her own, but as she spoke; she felt her heart grow lighter, if only because she was sharing the burden; that had without her realising it been weighing down on her.

At first when she began telling Haymitch, starting with the dinner date that Seneca had interrupted, she had halted and stalled in her recounting, however as she continued the words began to tumble effortlessly from her lips, what she had said to Seneca at the dinner about Lark and his father, how Seneca had reacted.

She was most keen to explain to Haymitch about that night and her behaviour towards him, how terrified she had been that Seneca would retaliate and how foolish she felt she had been to say those things.

She told him then what happened at the boutique; of the disastrous interview that had ended with the necklace that she was now sure Seneca had sent. She recalled how humiliated she had felt and then the stark fear and worry that had been plaguing her that she had given him away.

She apologised again for their argument that night, unable to put into words how she felt she was drowning in the Capitol, unable to control anything with Seneca always just being there to remind her how powerless she really was, she just wanted some even ground with Ficen. She had never meant to hurt him.

She spoke of the absolute panic she had felt on finding the penthouse filled with guards, how truly sick she had felt that they had taken him, how terrified she had been that something may have been happening to her family – how she was still terrified for her family.

She told him of the current day's events, how Cen was dead and she didn't know why, how frightened she had been and how Seneca had been there. In a quiet voice, unable to look at him she recounted how sorely tempted she had been to accept Seneca's gift.

She had finished telling him all that he didn't know, and all that she had been keeping from him but she continued, unable to stop; it was as though the dam had been broken and everything came flooding out,

In hushed whispers with her head lowered, she spoke raggedly of the guilt she felt over Frenkin, how she had grown to love the boy like a brother and she didn't think she could bear to lose him. She spoke of her fear of a painful death in the arena whether by another tribute's hands or Seneca's games. With clenched fists she voiced her frustration on not being able to figure out Seneca, he had wanted to kill her from the start, what was he playing at now with the necklace? She cried brokenly into his chest over how much she simply missed her family and how she just wanted to go home.

And shining through everything she recounted was how much she had needed him, and how much she still did.

Her voice finally trailed off into silence, now almost hoarse with crying and speaking.

…

_(Haymitch's POV)_

The whole way through her tale Haymitch had held her tightly, pressing kisses to her head and brushing away the tears that fell in fast succession.

"Damn it Stephanie – why didn't you tell me any of this?!"his voice was thick with emotion.

Stephanie looked up at him with watery eyes; he smoothed the hair back from her face, kissing her gently.

"I should have been there…today, at the boutique, with Ficen…" Stephanie pressed her fingers to his lips to silence him as she shook her head softly.

"You're here now," she said. Haymitch didn't waste a heartbeat as he kissed her fiercely, willing her to feel everything he felt for her.

When they broke apart he whispered, "I'm sorry," against her lips.

She just wrapped her arms tighter around him, whispering reassurances as she sighed deeply; relieved at last.

"I love you," he said the words quietly, his face buried in the cascade of her hair, but she heard him.

"I know. I love you too,"

…

_(Haymitch's POV still)_

After sitting contentedly in one another's arms for a while Haymitch finally coaxed Stephanie to get back into bed when she began to nod off once more.

As he laid her down though he could see it in her eyes; fear.

Haymitch felt anger and hatred well up in him again at the Capitol…at Seneca; he would protect her against anything that tried to harm her and he was going to make sure she won but…he couldn't stop the nightmares that were inevitable.

He would do his best to chase away the demons that haunted her but that took time and it was a lot harder; hell didn't he know that better than anyone.

But he was determined to see that she would once more sleep soundly without waking up screaming. He kissed her softly.

"Try to get some sleep, I'll come wake you for supper," he said quietly, his gaze drifting over her face.

Stephanie nodded hesitantly and he made to get up, but her arm suddenly shot out and her hand grasped his shirt desperately.

He turned to look at her; her golden eyes were wide and almost frantic.

"Stay with me," her voice was hoarse and pleading.

He pried her hand off his arm gently, her eyes widened slightly in alarm before he slipped into the bed beside her.

She immediately pressed herself against him, nuzzling her face into his neck as he held her securely in his arms.

"Always," he replied.

…

_(POV) _

"You missed another meeting today son,"

He fixed his napkin irritably, barely registering his father's words until his father had cleared his throat pointedly to gain his attention.

"Apologies father…was it important?"

"All meetings are important," the voice was calm, cold and emotionless.

However once more the son's thoughts had wandered elsewhere as he picked at the food on his plate distractedly.

He watched his son warily, calculating; what had caused the sudden change in his demeanour?

* * *

**LilyFox; Thanks so much, Hayphanie – coined by Philippa :P I'm glad you enjoy it – thanks for letting me know & I hope you continue to enjoy!**

**HungerGamesQueen100; Thank you so much for the really thoughtful review and the favourite/follow – I hope you continue to enjoy**

**Phillippa; Thanks as always for your review – Yes, yes Haymitch is back :D Your questions; Cen died because Ficen gave him up to the Capitol on a false charge (smuggling weapons to tributes) – so he was essentially executed but he bribed guards to try and get to his sister Ficen at the photo shoot thinking she would save him, but Cen didn't know that Ficen was the one that had given him up. When Ficen refused to see him Cen tried to escape and the guards killed him. (Chapter40, guard & Seneca conversation) Ficen wanted Cen dead because she was afraid that if Seneca found out that she knew about the necklace and did nothing to stop it being handed to her brother rather than her, Seneca would be angry with her/kill her (Chapter 37) Fi****c**en is mean because Stephanie is getting more attention from Seneca - who Fi**c**en is in love with - than Fi**c**en is, other than that its just her nature. I haven't really showed Fi**c**en with others separately from Stephanie but she wouldn't be as mean with them - she has just developed a strong hate for Stephanie now. With others Fi**c**en would just be considered stern/serious/maybe harsh at times. I hope that clears things up? :)

**Also thanks to new followers & favourites; HungerGamesQueen100, ThaliaNico & HeartfeltSorrow14**


	45. Memories

******Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

**Chapter Forty-Five; Memories**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie woke with a slight start, but immediately relaxed when she felt the comforting weight of being wrapped in someone's arms. She glanced up to see Haymitch sleeping soundly.

Stephanie snuggled closer to him, at least for a few more moments she could enjoy this, she thought to herself.

She still felt exhausted and drained but she felt she could sleep no longer. She wanted to get up and occupy herself with something.

Her thoughts also needed distraction. She felt relief in having shared her burden with someone who could understand her but after the initial tide of exhausting emotions had passed she felt a little niggling worry begin; what would Haymitch do now?

She pushed it out of her mind enjoying the feeling of contentment and peacefulness that she could only obtain here in Haymitch's arms for as long as possible.

Which wasn't very long.

There was a knock on the door.

Stephanie was just about to nudge Haymitch awake hastily when a familiar voice called her name.

Frenkin.

Stephanie disentangled herself from Haymitch's arms; he woke groggily then, groaning and mumbling.

Stephanie gave a slight smirk before clambering over him to the door.

When she pulled it open Frenkin stood there, struggling with a tray laden with food and such in his hands. They had missed supper after all.

Stephanie felt a pang of guilt thinking of Frenkin eating supper with Isa, or if Isa had gone off, then all…alone.

Stephanie smiled brightly to cover her brief lapse and immediately went to help him with the tray.

"I brought you some supper because you missed it and…" Frenkin's voice trailed off as he spied Haymitch who was just sitting up in bed and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Frenkin immediately blushed scarlet red and began stumbling over apologies, "I..I'm sorry…I didn't know…I hadn't realised…I …I would never…"

"Frenkin," Stephanie cut across him and give him a reassuring smile, "it's okay."

Frenkin looked up at her and taking a deep breath returned her smile.

"Come in," Stephanie stepped back from the door, gesturing for Frenkin to enter.

Frenkin blushed again, looking uncertainly between a now standing Haymitch and Stephanie.

"Come on in kid," Haymitch called.

Frenkin stepped through the threshold of the door and Stephanie closed the door after him with her hip.

Stephanie immediately went over and set the tray of food down on the dresser, knocking the alarm clock to the floor to make room.

Haymitch pulled the plush divan over to the side of the bed, where he flopped down unceremoniously onto the divan.

Stephanie glowered at him for a moment, crossing her arms sternly with an arched eyebrow.

Haymitch threw a glance at Frenkin who seated himself on the chair he borrowed from the dressing table, "Sorry sweetheart, I didn't know we were having guests," he said, putting his arms behind his head.

Frenkin gave a soft laugh and Stephanie relented and smiled.

She herself sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs and pulled the bedside dresser roughly into the centre of the three of them.

Stephanie smiled warmly at Frenkin, "Thanks for the food Frenkin, I was meant to be at supper but someone…didn't wake me like they said they would," Stephanie said with a pointed look at Haymitch.

Haymitch pretended to be oblivious and made a quick grab for some of the food on her plate, Stephanie however lifted the plate before he could get anything.

"There is more food, I could go and get some more," Frenkin offered.

"Don't worry kid. I just like winding sweetheart up here," Haymitch said, relaxing once more.

"Glad to know I amuse you," Stephanie replied sarcastically.

"Constantly," Haymitch answered without missing a beat.

Frenkin laughed again, though he tried to cover it with his hand.

"You see sweetheart, even Frenkin here is 'amused'," Haymitch teased, flashing her a brilliant smile.

Stephanie gave him a grateful look as once more Frenkin ducked his head to try and conceal his laughter behind a small hand.

Haymitch looked knowingly back at her.

"You remind me of…" Frenkin's voice trailed off as he looked shyly up at them.

"A cat and dog?" Haymitch supplied.

"Well we all know who the dog is in that analogy," Stephanie said, smirking slightly with laughing eyes.

Frenkin had given up on trying to hold back his laughter.

"I hear dogs are quite loyal actually," Haymitch countered.

"Don't they have a habit of chasing their own tails?" Stephanie asked innocently with a wicked smile.

"And what about a cat? What are they known for?" Haymitch asked with a smirk.

"Landing on their feet," Frenkin offered.

Haymitch gave a loud guffaw and made a general show of recovering himself.

Stephanie arched an eyebrow at him fixing him with a stony expression though her eyes were bright.

"And what, may I ask do you find so funny?" Stephanie asked, managing to fight the smile and keep her voice calm and collected.

Haymitch exchanged a glance with Frenkin then looked back to Stephanie.

"Oh come on now sweetheart – do I really need to explain that one. You – landing on your feet," he said and then he and Frenkin dissolved into laughter.

"Walking in high heels is difficult!" Stephanie protested though she was smiling by this stage herself.

Frenkin was laughing freely now but in-between his laughter he managed to get out a few words that made both Stephanie and Haymitch pause for a moment.

"You remind me of my mother and father," he said, taking off his glasses to dry his eyes with a huge sheepish grin on his face.

There was a ghost of a smile playing on Stephanie's lips as she looked at Frenkin fondly, even Haymitch had a genuine smile, though in both their eyes there was a sympathetic look.

Frenkin blushed under the attention.

…

_(Frenkin's POV)_

Frenkin excused himself swiftly, only after Stephanie had coaxed from him promises to return.

He exited the room quietly and just as he was closing the door he caught the flash of movement of Stephanie diving across to the divan to Haymitch already speaking in hushed whispers.

Frenkin shut the door gently, smiling softly to himself.

He made his way slowly into the main room; empty and silent. Isa had had supper with him but had disappeared shortly afterwards.

Passing on into the kitchen Frenkin went to the fridge and opened it.

No matter how many times he saw it his eyes still were the size of saucers as he took in the shelves bursting with food. Plates and plates of food; all already prepared of course.

Frenkin chanced a look around him, but the place was empty, except for Haymitch and Stephanie in her room of course. However he still blushed furiously, stealing furtive glances every now and then as though he was going to do something naughty and was afraid of getting caught.

Frenkin took what he wanted from the fridge, just what he needed and no more, though he could have took the whole fridge and no one would have minded.

He tip-toed over to the kitchen table, listening carefully for any signs of Stephanie and Haymitch approaching. All was quiet.

Frenkin seated himself in one of the chairs and sat it down directly in front of him on the kitchen table.

It was a cupcake; of course it was much more extravagant than anything he had ever got at home. At home it was a small sweet bun with a dusting of sugar on top if he was lucky, but here; the thing was so lavishly and beautifully styled it would seem a shame to eat something so pretty. However it did look sumptuous and it was almost as big as his hand.

Frenkin's glasses began to mist over at the thoughts of home.

He imagined his own family sitting at their huge kitchen table at home doing the same thing for him, at that huge table that had caused so much drama.

They had had a small tiny circular table before, barely enough for the three of them and then his mother had got pregnant and the twins came along, Lessi & Len.

His own small bed squashed up against the wall to allow cribs for his new little brother and sister and then finally bunk beds.

His mother had told his father again and again that they needed a new table until finally one night while all five of them sat huddled around, elbowing each other and knees banging against one another, the thing gave way, collapsed right below them.

His mother had told his father that if he didn't bring a new table home with him after work he need not bother coming home at all.

His father didn't disappoint.

Twilight was just beginning to fall and his mother despite her words couldn't help going to the window every few minutes, worry creasing her fair face, hands twisting her apron while all the while she was cursing his father and calling him unmentionables under her breath for worrying her.

He still could see his father coming up the path, covered in sawdust and with a huge grin on his face. It took four men to carry the huge table into the house, and ever since then they had to learn a series of complicated manoeuvres just to get around the thing; it nearly took up the whole room though Frenkin, Lessi and Len usually just quickly slid under it. His mother had pretended to be angry but he could see the smile in her eyes, hear the laughter in her voice and see the deep love in her face as she swatted his father telling him that if he worried her again like that she would make him sleep on the porch.

Tears began to fall silently down Frenkin's cheeks as the fond memories warmed his heart and at the same time squeezed it so tight it felt like bursting.

As his thoughts lingered painfully on his mother & father; trying to recall each kind word, each warm embrace, the familiar scent of home, Frenkin's thoughts unconsciously for a moment drifted to Stephanie and Haymitch.

It was they after all who had sparked these memories in him, had pushed him to his current actions. He didn't want to do it to begin with, thought it would be too painful or wasteful but seeing Stephanie and Haymitch bicker and yet seeing their love for each other even clearer in their faces: it was just like his own mother and father.

He sighed deeply trying to stop his tears. He didn't want to cry, not here, not alone.

He remembered crying in his parent's arms at the Justice Building back in District 3, Lessi & Len clinging to him with tear-streaked faces, bright luminous eyes filled with pain. He had cried then for so long.

His father had paced the room running his hand through his hair, tears on his cheeks though he fought to hide them, with wide frantic eyes he had spoken in hoarse whispers about running, he would fight off the guards and his mother would run with the kids, get away.

Frenkin choked down sobs as he thought of his mother's face. His mother was very pretty, everyone always said so but when he looked at his mother's face all he could see was how sad she was. She was still pretty but her face was so tragic as she shook her head brokenly, pleading with their father.

And Frenkin begged them to stop because he didn't want that to be his last memory and so together the five of they held each other, whispering "I love you's". His father had tried to tell him that he had a chance, he was smart but neither could bear it when it was a scared twelve-year old boy with wide blue eyes and misted over glasses that stood before them. They didn't speak of the past either, of memories because that would be too painful, too definitive.

It seemed forever and yet it seemed no time at all when the guards had to forcibly remove his mother's arms from around him, Lessi and Len wailing as they clung to their father who couldn't even begin to console them.

Frenkin removed his glasses, folding them neatly with fumbling fingers and setting them down on the table beside the huge cupcake.

He remembered it all now, because who knows when he would get another chance. Memories were painful, which was why he preferred to indulge in them alone, like now or hidden under the blankets where just for a moment he could pretend he was back home and he wasn't going to die soon.

Frenkin felt the sobs choke up in his throat and reminded himself to breathe properly, his hands were quaking again. He didn't want to die and yet…

Everyone. Every single person had looked at him the same way, his parents, Lessi and Len despite being half his age, the mayor as the train pulled away, Stephanie as she shook his hand, Haymitch when he handed him the tissue, even Alba and Isa. Though more often than not the looks he got from residents of the Capitol were looks of disinterest as they skimmed over him looking for the stronger tributes.

It didn't matter or help that he had weeks to prepare for his impending death…he was just a boy and he was terrified.

The tears were falling thick and fast and he tried to concentrate on specific sprinkles on the immaculate icing of the cupcake but without his glasses they were nothing but a splurge of colour.

"I'll never eat a cupcake ever again I promise…I just want to go home," but there was no one there to hear Frenkin's innocent plea of a child.

There was a loud thud from down the hall where Stephanie's bedroom was and Frenkin hastily scrubbed at his tears, allowing himself a slight snicker when an image of Stephanie kicking Haymitch of the divan entered his head; it did seem like something she would do.

He put on his glasses and blinked owlishly as the room came into focus once more. He waited for Stephanie or Haymitch to burst out into the hall but silence fell again.

Frenkin smiled softly.

Stephanie and Haymitch.

He didn't begrudge them for what they had. Even if he was angry or spiteful because of it they reminded him too much of his parents and home.

But hatred and spite were things that were foreign to a boy such as Frenkin. His family might have been poor but they were loving.

He was grateful to them; Stephanie & Haymitch.

Despite the guilt that plagued both Stephanie and Haymitch, Frenkin was thankful. Stephanie could have dismissed him or seen him as an easy target. Haymitch could have just ignored him; what was the point on working with him? But they didn't. Stephanie held his hand, tucked him in, cared for him; in a way she became a mother figure and Haymitch a father figure and for that Frenkin was extremely grateful.

He had imagined that as soon as he got on the train he would be whisked away to a world where no one cared for him and for his last few weeks alive he would be alone. But he wasn't; Stephanie and Haymitch had given him what he thought he would never feel again as he was taken away. A family and people who cared and loved him no matter what. It didn't matter that the chances of him winning were next to nothing they still cared for him, the same way his family back home did.

Thinking of home made it all come rushing back; the memories were so vivid in his mind, they played on a constant loop with a painful clarity.

He remembered his mother's face, her light blonde hair braided down her back, kind blue eyes as she would set the small bun down before him with a loving smile.

"Go on Frenkin love," she would say and his father would ruffle his hair. Lessi and Len looking on eagerly with toothy grins.

He swallowed hard and looked down at the sweet on the table. It wasn't the same and he had no candle like back home but it would have to do.

And so with a huge breath he blew out the imaginary candle, allowing himself for a moment to pretend he was back home and not a tribute for the Games.

And then in a small voice he whispered…

"Happy Birthday Frenkin."

* * *

**Replies to reviews...**

**HungerGamesQueen100; Thanks for the review; I'm glad you are enjoying it :)  
**

**HeartfeltSorrow14; Thank you so much for your review; I'm really happy to know that you are enjoying it and I hope you continue to do so! :) I'm happy to hear someone say that Haymitch is in character - he is one of my favourite characters too! & I would hate to think that I had completely ruined him.  
**

**Philippa; Not at all; I'm happy that I was able to explain it :) + this chapter's for you :P I finally got around to writing Frenkin's POV; I hope it lives up to your expectations!? :)**


	46. The Brand of a Tribute

******Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games **

**A/N; This ********chapter ********d**o******es a s********ev********er********e U-turn in ********emotions, whiplash is possibl********e...Wh****************************************************en I was writing this I k****************************************************ept forg****************************************************etting and changing th****************************************************e POV - sorry, so it jumps about a bit rath****************************************************er than a dual POV but ****************************************************each s****************************************************eparat****************************************************e POV wasn't ****************************************************enough to b****************************************************e split up if that mak****************************************************es any s****************************************************ens****************************************************e?**  


* * *

**Chapter Forty-Six; The Brand of a Tribute **

_(Stephanie's POV / Haymitch's POV) _

"Haymitch… Frenkin is taking a while isn't he?" Stephanie remarked.

"Sweetheart I'm not sure now would be the best time for Frenkin to come in," Haymitch bright gaze lifted to meet Stephanie's where she was straddling him.

Stephanie cheeks tinted red and he smirked, but they both remained still for a few moments.

Stephanie's gaze was locked on the door, head tilted slightly to the side as she listened.

Haymitch's smirk widened.

She quirked an eyebrow at him in silent question.

"You look like a dog when you are trying to listen," he said.

She scowled and punched him dead on the chest.

He immediately grasped her hips tightly and moved so that before the yelp could even leave her throat their positions had been changed and their lips were once more foisted together.

She broke away as he began to move down the column of her neck.

"This isn't a good idea," she said breathlessly.

"You started it," he countered, paying particular attention to her pulse point.

She inhaled sharply as she clawed at his back.

"You are using unfair tactics again," she replied, shivers running down his spine as her fingers delved into his hair.

He didn't answer her, just continued his ministrations however gradually his kisses grew less fervid and her grip lessened.

With a growl he propped himself up on one elbow to frown down at her.

"What did the kid say he was away to do?"

She frowned back at him.

"Weren't you listening?" she countered.

"I was busy sweetheart," he answered.

"Yes I know…I cannot believe you stashed alcohol in my room without me knowing," she tried to fold her arms but he pinned them above her head with a smirk.

However her expression remained unrelenting and so he released her and rolling his eyes sat up.

"They kept 'cleaning' my room…and why is it that we ended up on the floor again?"

"It was you who fell off and hit the floor," she replied.

"You are damn well right it was sweetheart…you on the hand cushioned yourself very nicely from the fall…with me,"

"I didn't hear you complaining,"

"I hadn't the chance sweetheart,"

"Oh so you wanted to complain,"

"Why are you always so difficult?"

"It isn't my fault you lost your balance because you were drunk,"

"I didn't lose my balance sweetheart…you tackled me,"

"Frenkin said he was going to get a glass of water." Stephanie said her words slowly as she narrowed her eyes.

"Could you make up your mind sweetheart? One minute you are tackling me to the floor and the next you are glaring at me…"

Stephanie gave an inarticulate sound as she leapt to her feet; somewhere between half-exasperation and half-rage/frustration.

"I am going to get Frenkin," she said, storming over to the door and tearing it open.

"Stephanie," Haymitch called her, his tone serious.

Stephanie turned to face him as she paused in the threshold of the door.

"Could you get me a glass sweetheart?"

Stephanie glared.

"Fine. I will get some ice as well because believe me you will be needing it when I get back."

Haymitch smirked, swigging generously from a bottle of alcohol as Stephanie left the room.

…

Stephanie stormed down the hallway muttering under her breath.

Damn it Haymitch could be so annoying sometimes, but despite her apparent anger with him a smirk was playing on her lips and there was a slight blush still present on her cheeks.

She was so lost in her own musings that she almost walked completely past Frenkin as he came down the hall.

She started slightly when she saw him, frowning and then her expression softened and her throat felt tight.

Frenkin looked up at her with a small smile but one look and Stephanie knew he wasn't fine.

His face was pale and blotchy as though he had been crying; further evidence was in his red-rimmed and puffy eyes but not only that; his blue eyes that had been sparkling with mirth a few minutes ago had changed, they now looked up at her listlessly.

She could almost see how his eyelashes were still damp, darkened by his tears and clumped together.

Frenkin's smile was a little too forced, too hollow and without conviction.

Stephanie said nothing; she didn't need to.

She reached out immediately, pulling Frenkin into her embrace.

She pressed a kiss firmly against his head, his small face buried against her shoulder, his slim arms wrapped around her waist as his hands clutched the shirt she had changed into.

Frenkin's shoulders trembled slightly and Stephanie held him tighter, but all was silent in that hall.

Apart from the hot tears that wet her shoulder and the slight quaking of his small frame it was almost impossible to tell he was crying.

"You don't have to hide this from me, from us…we're here for you Frenkin," Stephanie's own voice had become thick, her own eyes fast filling, as she rested her cheek against the top of Frenkin's head, one arm about his shoulders and the other holding the back of his head, stroking the hair there soothingly.

There was a muffled sob in response that was quickly swallowed.

"You aren't alone Frenkin," Stephanie whispered against his honey hair, her voice hitching and breaking slightly on his name.

There was a few hiccupping cries and then Frenkin's shoulders began to jerk violently as he sobbed brokenly against her.

The force of the emotion almost had Stephanie keeling over; the cries so pained she couldn't imagine someone as innocent and young as Frenkin as ever having felt such agony.

When she glanced up at the slight noise her eyes were so misted over that she almost couldn't make out Haymitch as he came out into the hall alerted by Frenkin's sudden outburst.

The watery film in front of her eyes broke and the tears spilled freely down her cheeks, dampening the top of Frenkin's hair.

Stephanie cried because she felt so helpless, because the beautiful sweet boy in her arms didn't deserve the pain and no words or anything she did could ease it for him.

Stephanie thought of how only moments ago they sat laughing and now look at them.

Haymitch didn't approach them, he made no move from the door for a few moments.

He met Stephanie's gaze for a split second.

His eyes were sharp and keen, there was understanding in them and pity and guilt but there was also something hard, something dangerous in their gleam, something that was also evident in the firm line of his jaw and his mouth that was set in a grim line.

Hatred. Hatred for the Capitol; that poisonous Capitol that destroyed everything. Happy memories could not even be enjoyed because it was too painful to recall that which would never be again.

He said nothing but turned down the hall towards his own room. He didn't intrude. That may have once been him, but he had won his Games.

Haymitch couldn't bring himself to go and stand before the kid: him; a past victor to go and offer words of false reassurances to the kid when one only had to look in Frenkin's eyes to know that the kid himself knew he wouldn't win. The words would stick in his throat. He got into his room, immediately looking for something to drink to try and quell the upsurge of hot anger and blind rage.

Stephanie watched Haymitch disappear into his room as Frenkin continued to soak her shirt right through with his salt tears.

She could feel the dampness of his tears press against her skin, chilling it.

How many tributes had cried brokenly against the shoulders of their partners? For the families and loved ones they left behind and would never see, for the futures they would never have?

Stephanie imagined she could feel the tears seep into her skin, marking her; a permanent stain as a reminder for as long as she would live.

How many victors survived now with these invisible marks, the tears of fallen friends, comrades, enemies upon their shoulders? Only they could feel their crushing weight that burned like a brand, the memories sharp and unforgettable.

Because although the pain was different in many ways it was worse than an actual scarring brand. The pain was worse and it lasted for longer without any hope of relief, the fear and helplessness at the time of its infliction would be felt again and again and again.

It was invisible to all, except to those who were marked likewise and fleetingly hollow eyes would harden suddenly in unbridled anger, as their pupils trembled softly with memories of the one who had trembled just as softly against their shoulder with their anguished tears marking them with the brand of a tribute.

* * *

**Review and let me know what you think? :)**

**Hung****************************************************erGam****************************************************esQu****************************************************e****************************************************en100; Thanks for th****************************************************e r****************************************************evi****************************************************ew :) Y****************************************************ea I ****************************************************wanted p****************************************************eopl****************************************************e to r****************************************************em****************************************************emb****************************************************er that Fr****************************************************enkin was just a young boy so I'm glad you think I ************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************d**i**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************d** that :) 


	47. The Secrets That We Keep

******Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Seven; The Secrets That We Keep**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Breakfast was one of the most relaxed they had had since there was no immediate rushing about for an event.

They would spend the day preparing for the interview with Flickerman tomorrow afternoon. Despite her anticipation Stephanie was eager to get started; although Flickerman always did his best to help the tributes out Stephanie knew with her track record that one slip of a comment could throw it.

As everything had been, the interviews had been lengthened.

Along with the breakfast being one of the most relaxed it was also one of the most silent.

Isa had breakfasted earlier and had went off to personally collect the tapes that they would also get a chance to see today before they would be aired the day of the interviews.

The tapes would be the highlights of each tribute for the past events; the Chariot ride, the welcome party, their dinner dates, the shopping days, the photo-shoots etc.

The mere thought nearly had Stephanie dropping her head in complete defeated dejection into her bowl of cereal. She couldn't bear to eat anything heavier.

Isa being absent therefore meant there was the lack of usual commentary on anything and everything.

Furthermore Haymitch…was missing…again.

Stephanie glared at the empty chair. If Haymitch was passed out in his room drunk again it would be more than water she threw around him this time Stephanie thought angrily.

So with Isa and Haymitch absent it left only Frenkin and Stephanie and Frenkin was being even more silent than usual this morning.

He kept glancing up at her shyly; his cheeks permanently flushed a deep pink it would seem.

It had been the same the previous night.

When his tears had died down she had been able to direct him back to his room; Frenkin obeying numbly.

There she tucked him into bed, staying with him, combing her fingers through his hair and humming snippets of tunes from home until he had drifted off to sleep.

But even then he had stolen glances up at her, quickly averting his gaze when she would meet his. She knew he felt embarrassed; it was not in someone like Frenkin's nature to be prone to such outbursts.

Stephanie sighed deeply, startling Frenkin slightly. The knife he was using to butter his piece of toast clattered noisily onto the glass table making Frenkin's blush only heighten to a scarlet red.

He glanced up with an apologetic expression and Stephanie gave him a reassuring smile, handing him a clean knife she took from Haymitch's place.

"We get to watch the videos today that will show us how we did at the events," Stephanie recounted Isa's rushed words as she flew past her in a blur of green and purple into the lift earlier that morning.

Frenkin frowned slightly.

"I am sure yours will be brilliant, mine on the other hand…" Stephanie trailed off, feeling sick down to her stomach she pushed the bowl of half-eaten cereal away from her.

She had frozen on the Chariot and had looked like a sack of potatoes according to Ficen or a circuit-board according to Haymitch. Neither option seemed particularly appealing.

She had got drunk at the party, disappeared for half of it, got dragged around a dance-floor. She had also since learnt that every tribute had had a 'few shots' with Seneca for the camera with some rehearsed questions, she evidently did not nor did she make it through her whole shopping trip.

Her stylist at the boutique was dead so an interview with him was out the window and at the boutique she had had a break-down and was hounded by a crowd.

Furthermore her photo-shoot was disastrous, they had a few good shots from the first takes but after that the photographer thought that Stephanie must be suffering from some sort of paralysis that she couldn't smile or show any facial expression except for abject fear or just barely controlled hysterics.

Although granted she had just seen Cen killed and she doubted that many of the other tributes had to deal with Seneca's terrifying appearances but the Capitol people would not be shown any of that. All they would see would be a terrified girl who when she did manage to speak and not gape or faint it was to say something mean while all the other tributes will be shown to have adjusted well in the Capitol.

Stephanie couldn't help but groan in utter despair thinking about it.

The situation was hopeless which was why she needed to concentrate especially on the Flickerman interview tomorrow to try and salvage what she could and the two people who could help her were gone.

Who knew when Isa would be back but Stephanie would be damned before she was going to let Haymitch try and lounge about in his room staving off a hangover.

Stephanie caught Frenkin try and steal a discreet glance at the hall towards the bedrooms.

They had both finished breakfast and were now waiting a little awkwardly for the arrival of either Isa or Haymitch; Haymitch being the expected one.

Stephanie drummed her nails against the glass table irritably eyeing up the pot of hot tea and contemplating whether throwing it around Haymitch would cause any lasting scarring or damage.

With a growl of frustration Stephanie pushed her chair out noisily from the table.

"I'll go and get him," Stephanie said and with that she marched towards the bedrooms.

She didn't bother knocking but burst into the room with an expression like thunder only for it to deflate just as quickly.

She glanced about the room dumbly for a moment, trudging determinedly into the bathroom only to find it empty.

Haymitch wasn't there.

Where the hell did he keep disappearing off to?

In the general commotion of things she had yet to get to pin point him about where exactly he had been the day of the photo shoot; she had always just assumed that he had been passed out in his room all day but now as she cast one more sceptical glance over the empty room she began to have her doubts.

She made her way slowly back to the where Frenkin still waited at the table, lost deep in thoughts.

She was snapped out of them by Frenkin's sudden call, "Haymitch!"

Stephanie looked behind her to the bedroom; half-expecting Haymitch to be there, explaining how he had managed to construct a secret wine-cellar full of alcohol in his room and that's why he didn't hear her.

"Sweetheart - this way," Haymitch called and Stephanie snapped her head around to find a fully dressed and rather presentable in fact Haymitch coming from the hall that led to the lift.

"Where the hell were you?" Stephanie demanded, masking the relief in her voice with annoyance.

"I wasn't aware I had to give a full account of my where-abouts everytime I went out?"

Stephanie folded her arms stubbornly, "We have an interview with Flickerman tomorrow," she said.

"Sweetheart, as hard as this is for you to believe…I have been doing this for ten years," Haymitch answered in a painfully obvious voice.

Frenkin stifled a grin and made his way into the main room.

Haymitch smirked at her scarlet flush and made to follow when he was hauled unceremoniously back by the collar.

"Sweetheart I think you may be taking the dog analogy thing too far. You do not need to haul me back by the scruff of my collar to get my attention, unless…you were hoping for some specific type of attentions…"

Stephanie folded her arms unfazed, any other time she may have been blushing furiously but she was focused on one thing.

"Where were you the day of the photo-shoot?" Stephanie let her gaze bore into him.

The change in Haymitch's demeanour was immediate. The smirk was immediately wiped from his face, his jaw tightened and his eyes were hard and keen. He grasped Stephanie's wrist firmly, pulling her closer to himself so there was barely a hand's breadth between them.

"Stephanie…" his voice was low and calm as he said her name, shaking his head softly.

But Stephanie understood the implication.

Whatever Haymitch was up to it was dangerous; extremely dangerous.

Stephanie swallowed, feeling the familiar nausea seize her stomach.

He released his grip and as they walked into the main room Stephanie grasped Haymitch's hand briefly for a moment.

He glanced at her, holding her gaze for a moment; she willed her eyes to say everything that she couldn't voice.

'You better not be doing anything stupid & get caught because if you do you will be begging the Capitol to arrest you by the time I am through with you because I damn well love you idiot and I couldn't bear it to lose you'

As if being able to read her thoughts Haymitch smirked slightly, his own grey eyes glinting mischievously for a moment before he turned back and Stephanie dropped the death grip she had on his hand.

Stephanie only hoped that Haymitch knew what the hell he was doing.

"So a lot of the questions will be similar to the ones we rehearsed for the party?" Frenkin asked after they had been practicing for over two hours and there had been no major problems.

"Exactly kid," Haymitch replied, ignoring the glare Stephanie was sending him when he took a generous drink from the vodka bottle.

"Is that really necessary?" Stephanie asked, wrinkling her nose.

Haymitch didn't need to look at her to know what she was talking about.

"It helps me think sweetheart,"

Stephanie said nothing but when he glanced up he saw that she was still sending daggers at him.

With a sigh tinged with frustration Haymitch pointedly slammed the bottle down on the coffee table.

Just then the sound of the lift arriving reached them.

"Isa," Stephanie said distractedly, trying to think how she was going to edge the bottle away from Haymitch without him realising it; she doubted if such a thing was possible.

However all three of them suddenly froze as the sound of a whole stampede of approaching footsteps reached them. There was definitely more than one person.

Stephanie, Haymitch and even Frenkin were on their feet immediately. Frenkin and Stephanie waiting anxiously, knees slightly bent, hands flexing: they were ready to run. It was a District thing.

Back home when there were any signs of trouble you didn't wait around to see the outcome you high tailed it out of there.

Haymitch was a Victor though and he moved himself slightly in front of Stephanie and Frenkin almost instinctively and just as instinctively as Frenkin clutching Stephanie's hand.

Stephanie's thoughts were racing. Haymitch must have been caught in what he was doing and they were all going to be arrested and tortured, Stephanie tried to regulate her breathing.

Isa appeared first slightly throwing them all a little. They were all expecting a guard or something.

The escort looked a little dazed and a little confused but otherwise completely innocent.

"Isa?" Haymitch demanded immediately.

And then Haymitch was just in time to catch Stephanie as she collapsed soundlessly when Seneca Crane walked into the room.

* * *

**Apologies for delays; I recently lost someone very dear to me;**

**Replies to reviews; **

**Philippa; Thanks & I'm glad you liked the chapters :)  
**

**Hung****erGam****esQu****e****en100; Thanks, happy to h****ear you lik****e****d** it :)

**theluckypasta; Thanks, I hope you continue to enjoy :) **

**Also thanks to new follows/favourites: theluckypasta, luckykitty13, Vi****ctoriaKurt & Ki****cki von B****erg****er**  



	48. Interviewing

******Disclaimer; I do not own The Hunger Games**

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Eight; Interviewing**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

Stephanie opened her eyes hesitantly, trying to assure herself that she had been imagining it but somehow the sinking feeling in her stomach assured her she wasn't.

Before her eyes were even fully opened someone had gripped her arms, shaking her slightly.

"Stephanie," Haymitch's voice was urgent and hushed.

Stephanie's eyes shot open wide.

A quick glance about her told her she was in her room with Haymitch. She was on the bed, Haymitch had no doubt brought her there after…

"What is happening?" Stephanie managed to get the few words out without her voice trembling.

Haymitch opened his mouth to answer only to be interrupted by an impatient knocking on the door.

"We really need to be getting a move on," it was a woman's voice, unfamiliar yet undeniably Capitol.

Stephanie glanced frantically between Haymitch and the closed door.

"We'll be there in a minute," Haymitch answered back sharply.

There was slight shuffling on the other side of the door and then with an exaggerated sigh the person stormed noisily off down the hall.

"What wa…" Stephanie was cut off when Haymitch put his hand over her mouth silencing her.

He crept stealthily over to the door, opening it a sliver to peer out into the silent hall.

Stephanie felt a chill creep up her spine as it always did when she saw Haymitch like…this.

Quiet didn't seem to be a word in Haymitch's vocabulary but there was the odd times when his eyes would become cold or when he moved silently and…deadly that Stephanie remembered that Haymitch was a Victor, he had faced the horrors of the Games and though he had survived them, they had undeniably changed him.

He motioned for her to come over without looking at her.

She tried to be as silent as Haymitch had been but in comparison she sounded like a stampeded of elephants; the sheets rustled…loudly and she banged her knee of the bedside cabinet which resulted in a few curse words and knocked the alarm clock to the ground.

Haymitch glanced back at her and smirked though in a moment it was gone and his face was serious and urgent again.

Stephanie stood closely beside Haymitch looking up at him with eyes that although trusting betrayed a little panic.

"What is happening…why is…_he _here?" Stephanie asked in a hushed whisper.

"Just follow my lead," he whispered back just as approaching footsteps could be heard.

Stephanie glanced at him panicked but she got no chance to voice her bewilderment at his statement because Haymitch opened the door fully and stepped out into the hall.

Stephanie managed to plaster on a neutral expression in place of the annoyed one and still her arm before she dragged Haymitch back by his collar and demanded that he explain himself. For at that moment a Capitol woman appeared looking quite flustered and with a clipboard in her hand.

She sighed loudly in relief when she saw them.

"Oh marvellous she's awake. Right, well, good. We need to get moving pronto – Mr. Crane is on an extremely tight schedule and we have not a moment to lose. We need to do this interview now…" the woman had launched into a tirade as she motioned hastily for them to follow her down the hall.

"I don't know how we managed to miss you at the party," the woman muttered the last statement more to herself than them but Stephanie caught it and her heart leapt into her throat as the colour drained from her face.

She felt Haymitch's arm steady her briefly.

"Once is quite enough sweetheart," he warned gently as they walked into the main room.

However all the same it was a good thing that Haymitch was still steadying her because walking into the main room and seeing Seneca standing there ever so casually did nothing to calm her.

Although she knew it was ridiculous she had come to think of the penthouse as the next closest thing to home as she could get. Home; a place where she could feel safe.

Even though she knew it was impossible here in the Capitol. However seeing Seneca Crane casually drop by shattered her illusion of a safe haven altogether.

There was a whole other group of people in the room hurriedly rushing about and looking generally worried.

However as Stephanie entered the room with Haymitch there seemed to be a collected sigh of relief.

Isa bounded over to them looking ecstatic and looped an arm through Stephanie's.

"Oh Stephanie pet, you will never guess!" Isa began.

Stephanie cast her a side-long glance. She was feeling very queasy and if she didn't sit down in the next few minutes she feared her legs were going to give way.

As if sensing it Haymitch's hold around her waist tightened ever so slightly.

"Try me," Stephanie replied dryly.

"Well pet for some reason you missed the interview at the party; that must have been when you were powdering your nose…however, Seneca Crane has been gracious enough to grant you a second chance so that you would not be at a disadvantage. I was shocked when I went to collect your videos this morning and instead had been told that they were not ready yet, I…" Stephanie barely registered the rest of Isa's recounting.

Stephanie looked up at Haymitch, she didn't miss the charged glare exchanged between him and Seneca.

Seneca was standing arrogantly with a passive look on his face as though he were bored, though his bright eyes betrayed that he was well aware of the effect of his little visit.

'How very gracious of him' Stephanie thought bitterly in her head as she sent Seneca a discreet glare when he met her gaze.

However underneath the blatant fear and hot anger and frustration coursing through Stephanie the source of both was ultimately her confusion.

Did Seneca really hate her that much that he would take every opportunity to terrify her like this? Had she that badly annoyed him?

As Stephanie distantly recognised as Isa finished speaking Seneca smirked at her.

"I didn't know my mere presence could cause you to faint," he said and there was a ripple of high-pitched giggles around the room where camera equipment and the such was being set up.

Stephanie felt herself flush scarlet with angry humiliation and beside her she felt Haymitch tense. However Haymitch was still able to give her waist a warning squeeze.

Stephanie glanced down at the ground, screwing her eyes shut and clenching her fists for a brief moment in an attempt to calm herself.

It was also to try and slow her thumping heart that still raced with fear.

"Well let's get moving shall we?" it was the woman from before with the clipboard.

Stephanie felt a momentary wave of panic seize her as she glanced back wildly to look at Haymitch.

His expression was dark but he gave her a curt nod in encouragement.

Swallowing her fear Stephanie made her way over to where the woman was gesturing impatiently and where Seneca was waiting.

* * *

**Thanks to all those who continue to read :}**

**Thanks to n****ew follow/ favourit****es; floy****d****cotton & Hon************ey************eat************er**


	49. Prizes

******Disclaimer; I do not own The Hunger Games**

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Nine; Prizes**

_(Seneca__'_s POV) 

Seneca watched Stephanie approach him. It didn't take a genius to work out that she was terrified or maybe it was because he was a Gamemaker that he was able to read fear from someone's expression so easily, and to evoke it.

She paused where his secretary Selwa had directed her to; barely a metre away from him.

She pointedly fixed her gaze elsewhere as the crew around them worked to make final preparations.

He caught her glance frantically somewhere behind her and when he followed her line of vision he caught the cold grey gaze of Haymitch glaring at him.

Seneca smirked smugly.

Seeing Haymitch so evidently uncomfortable was a definite plus to his visit.

"I'd recommend relaxing," Seneca said.

Stephanie's head snapped round, her eyes narrowed and her mouth set in a firm line.

"Why are you here for?" she hissed.

Seneca arched an eyebrow at her.

"Weren't you listening Stephanie dear, for some unfathomable reason you missed the interview at the party and now I am going out of my way to rectify that mistake so that you are not at a disadvantage. You should really show more gratitude," Seneca said, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Stephanie clenched her jaw tightly; evidently annoyed.

"You know damn well why I missed the interview," she replied in a measured voice.

Seneca gave a short laugh.

"No matter, I do believe they have some good shots of us dancing," he taunted.

Stephanie immediately averted her gaze though not before he caught the look of absolute fury cross her face.

"We are ready whenever you are," Selwa prompted from the side-lines.

Seneca nodded in acknowledgment and turned to Stephanie with a ready smile.

Stephanie looked tense and pale but her eyes held a determined light that was also in the way she squared her shoulders and tightened her jaw.

But before cameras could get rolling there was an interruption.

Haymitch.

He was by Stephanie's side in a second.

Seneca scowled.

Any other time with any other tribute Seneca would have been overjoyed to see how irritated he could make Haymitch.

He would have smirked seeing Haymitch try to reassure his tributes before Seneca could sink his claws into them.

But this time was different.

Stephanie was different.

Seneca didn't like seeing Haymitch's hand brush against Stephanie's knuckles discreetly or how close they were standing or how Stephanie looked at Haymitch with absolute trust.

Haymitch mumbled a few words to her that had an instant effect on her; she even managed a small albeit hesitant smile for him.

It only annoyed Seneca greater.

"Abernathy move," Seneca warned.

Haymitch turned to face him for a moment; Stephanie standing a little behind Haymitch.

And for the briefest of moments the camera crew and everyone else was forgotten.

…

_(Haymitch's POV)_

Haymitch may not have been able to hear what Seneca had been saying to Stephanie but by her reactions he was able to guess that he was taunting her.

The interview had just been ready to begin when he had moved.

He told himself it was because Stephanie looked like she was about to faint again. However by now Haymitch was an expert on the subject of Stephanie's fainting spells and although she had looked shaky her stance and eyes told him that she would stand strong.

But in truth the real reason was the look on Seneca's face. He had seen that expression before.

A smug predatory look. Seneca had got his prize.

And that was what had made Haymitch move.

Seneca wouldn't have Stephanie.

She had seemed a little surprised when he had appeared at her side but there was also relief in her eyes.

He did his best to offer her what little signs of comfort he could while under watchful gazes.

"I know you can do this, I believe in you…" the words seemed to be enough as her face brightened and she nodded almost imperceptibly at him.

Haymitch turned immediately when Seneca's cold order had intruded on the moment.

Haymitch moved a little in front of Stephanie, he briefly caught Stephanie's worried glance.

One look and Haymitch could see that Seneca was furious from the way his eyes smouldered darkly and how his knuckles were stretched white from the pressure of his clenched fists.

Haymitch may have once felt a small victory over Seneca at seeing him riled for a change but not now.

Haymitch was keenly aware of the person who stood behind him.

He wanted to punch Seneca, knock the dark gleam from his eyes and even more so now that he knew what lengths Seneca had been going to just to seemingly terrify Stephanie but he didn't.

He may have once did it – to hell with the consequences, he may have been locked up and tortured, but what did he care? What did he have to live for?

But not anymore. Haymitch had something to live for, or rather more particularly – someone.

So when Stephanie grasped his hand tightly and she called him, her voice betraying a little franticness Haymitch turned away from Seneca.

He looked at Stephanie, "You've got this covered sweetheart, trust me," and then he winked and giving her hand a reassuring squeeze returned to his spot beside Isa and a wide-eyed Frenkin who was intimidated by the sudden appearance of a Head Gamemaker in their penthouse.

…

_(Seneca__'_s POV)

Seneca watched Haymitch walk away from him but not before he caught the look Haymitch exchanged with Stephanie.

Seneca had never felt so infuriated in all his life and another feeling that sickened him to the core.

Powerless. The only other time he had felt that was when Lark had died and yet here and now he had been made to feel it again.

And why was it he felt so powerless. He was Head Gamemaker and the President's son he should never have to feel powerless.

He could have Haymitch killed right there and then and Stephanie with him and he would face no repercussions for his actions.

And yet no matter what he did he couldn't stop …it. He wouldn't be able to destroy what had been silently passed between Haymitch and Stephanie when they had looked at one another. He couldn't stop them loving one another.

Nor could he stop his own feelings.

Seneca had no real reason to come there today and doing so posed a risk.

He had heard the general rumours going about of how he had a mystery woman and also there were whispers of his obsession with District 3. Luckily for him however the majority suspected that he was involved again with Ficen, the District 3 female stylist.

If it was generally known that the Head Gamemaker favoured one tribute above the rest the entire games would need to be scrapped and restarted with new tributes etc.

A humiliation that his father would not bear, one that could also be dangerous politically for his father.

The jittery attitude of the crew around him testified that even they were not comfortable with this rather peculiar behaviour.

But Seneca couldn't stop this anymore than he could stop the blood flowing in his veins.

Stop this…urge, pull towards Stephanie.

At first she had intrigued him; he was bored of the conventional and from their unusual first meeting she had presented something different. Then he had grown to admire her for her strong words and fiery temper even though it was obvious that she was still afraid.

He had felt something he had never felt with someone before. For the years Ficen had followed him faithfully Ficen would take as much delight if not more watching as Seneca would see that Haymitch's tributes were brutally killed but the hatred never left Seneca no matter how many of Haymitch's tributes he killed. Stephanie had been the first one to make him face the cruel truth; it wasn't Haymitch he hated but his own father.

She was attractive; it was usually the case with many District tributes. They weren't dressed up or modified artificially to look like some ridiculous clown as many of the Capitol women were. She had those strange coloured eyes; probably the result of some chemical exposure in her genetics he thought distractedly and she had a brilliant smile. Not a false Capitol smile always ready for the cameras but a genuine loving smile, not that it had ever been directed at him Seneca thought bitterly.

And yes admittedly part of the attraction to her had been because Haymitch had evidently some connection with her and it was another way to break Haymitch even further.

But without Seneca even realising it Haymitch had gradually become less and less of the reason and Stephanie herself became enough of a reason to make him take risks such as at the boutique and the photo-shoot.

Seneca started slightly as he came to the conclusion that he actually…cared for Stephanie?

And when he turned to look at her she was waiting for him, arms folded defensively across her torso, eyes narrowed in determination and chin tilted defiantly.

However his anger this time wasn't tinged with the slight amusement that it would have been at her stubborn stance but rather something akin to dejection as he recalled how she had looked at Haymitch.

However Seneca shook it off and turned to Stephanie with a dazzlingly smile.

"Shall we begin?" he asked charmingly.

Stephanie's lips twitched slightly as she forced herself into a more casual stance.

And Seneca's smile widened because Seneca wasn't one to give up so easily.

He always got what he wanted.

And what he wanted now was Stephanie.

* * *

**Thanks to all those who continue to r****ead & r****evi****ew. :)**

**********P****hillipa; Y****ep ot****************h****er tribut****es will b****e ****introduced soon and will ****************hav********************************************e ****cru****cial rol********************************************es so stay ********************************************tuned! :P ****  
**

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************Gu********************est; T****************hanks, I ****************hop************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************e you ********************************************************************************************************************continu********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************e to ********************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************enjoy :)**


	50. Enough

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games **

**Thanks to new favourites ****Dark Angel 792 **and BellaGirl7**  
**

**& T****h**anks for the reviews :)

* * *

**Chapter Fifty; Enough**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

The interview was succinct and short; exactly as Stephanie had wanted it.

Seneca didn't try and trip her up or lead her into traps as she suspected he might. His questions were simple and Stephanie could have sworn that at times he had tried to help her but when she would glance at him confused he would smirk and she would scowl in response.

The interview itself wasn't so difficult; it was the same questions as before. Stephanie began to wonder what on earth the Capitol people found so interesting about all this, as far as she could tell she was being asked the same questions over and over again.

But no matter she did her best to smile and be polite, even when she caught Seneca on more than one occasion throwing a smug look over her shoulder where she knew Haymitch was because she could practically feel his eyes on her.

"Well it's been a pleasure Miss Trindlesworth, may the odds be ever in your favour for the upcoming games," Seneca closed the interview and one of the cameramen nearby yelled 'Cut!' and the cameras stopped rolling.

All around a new bustle of energy began as equipment was packed up and it seemed the general relief of the crew was palpable.

Stephanie turned to leave…just to get out of the room.

"What no goodbye?" Seneca asked.

She turned to him despite better judgement telling her to walk on and she marched over to him determinedly stopping when she was practically touching him.

It wouldn't do to have those around them hearing what she had to say.

"Why are you here?" she stressed each word carefully.

For the briefest of moments he had appeared shocked when she had approached him but he reined it in immediately covering it with a slight smirk, his eyes bright.

"Your missed interview," he replied casually.

She scoffed then, glancing about her suspiciously. They weren't attracting too much attention though there was a few curious looks; a tribute speaking with the Head Gamemaker freely wasn't very common to say the least.

The only one who seemed to be concerned about it was Haymitch; however he had been accosted by a Capitol official who was speaking in frustrated tones to him.

"You know what I mean – what is the real reason for you being here?" Stephanie managed the words through clenched teeth.

Seneca eyed her carefully for a moment.

"You. Maybe I enjoy our little encounters," he spoke softly, an eyebrow arched with a half-smirk and his ice blue eyes bright.

Stephanie inhaled sharply, staggering back a step as confusion and disbelief creased her features. She opened her mouth but no words came out.

And then her back collided with a familiar warmth and an arm looped around her waist steadying her.

Seneca Crane hated her. She had been sure of that: from the start he had tricked her, taunted her that he was going to kill her, had used her family against her, had went out of his way to terrify her at the interrupted dinner and then again at the boutique he had given her the necklace that had resulted in chaos later claiming that it was a 'private gift'.

She was sure that now he was just doing this to further confuse her and torture her.

Damn it she felt angry tears prick at her eyes. She knew she was a tribute but she was sure that he was going out of his way to torture her specifically.

"Come on Stephanie," Haymitch urged gently in her ear.

Seneca's expression darkened.

"Well Abernathy, maybe you will manage to hold on to a tribute this year…or maybe not," Seneca taunted darkly.

Haymitch said nothing but his expression was grim as he forced Stephanie to walk away.

Goodbyes were brief after all this wasn't a social visit. Isa thankfully with her gushing thanks was enough to cover or at least make-up for the lack of input from both tributes and mentor.

Isa opted to go with them so as to collect the videos as soon as they were done.

As soon as the lift doors slid silently shut Stephanie wavered a little on her feet.

Haymitch managed to get her back into the main room where she collapsed gratefully onto the sofa; pale and shaking.

Seneca hated her. Seneca hated her. She kept repeating the words in her head like a mantra but then why? Why would he say different?

Stephanie sat staring listlessly off into space.

It was simple; she had had enough.

Enough of Seneca and his completely confusing and confounding ways and enough of the Capitol and the Hunger Games.

She was so lost here.

The Capitol seemed to be an almost different planet and its residents a different species. Their actions and words were mirror opposites of their true intent; a compliment was really a snide remark, a promise was a threat and false smiles were ubiquitous.

Stephanie had had enough of all of it; the confusion was overwhelming.

Haymitch appeared before her with a glass that he proceeded to hand to her with a concerned expression.

She accepted it dumbly, raising it to her lips mechanically and then with a slight start and a splutter she cocked an eyebrow at Haymitch.

"This is vodka," she stated.

He gave a half-smirk, "I thought you said you didn't drink?"

She gave him a wan smile, sipped once more at the clear liquid and then with a grimace dismissed it.

He rolled his eyes before taking the glass from her to set on the table in front of them before dropping himself down beside her with a heavy sigh.

"I thought we could all use a drink after that," he said after a moment of silence.

Stephanie gave a humourless laugh and a silence fell again over them.

"I don't understand him," Stephanie admitted quietly.

Haymitch glanced at her briefly with a confused expression.

She didn't look at him.

"Seneca."

Haymitch's expression darkened as he fidgeted irritably for a moment or two.

"You can't understand people like that; they do things because they can," Haymitch replied bitterly.

Stephanie sighed running a hand over her face tiredly.

"Seneca said something to me," she said, casting a sidelong glance at Haymitch.

He snapped around to face her.

Stephanie paused a moment and just as Haymitch was about to prompt her she answered his silent question.

"He said that he enjoyed his little encounters with me,"

Haymitch was silent for so long she thought that he hadn't heard her but the way his eyes were narrowed ever so marginally betrayed that he had.

"He is taunting you, trying to unsettle you," Haymitch replied but there was a strange tone to his voice.

Stephanie nodded trying to shake it off.

"That's what I thought," she agreed readily, studying Haymitch's face.

He turned to face her and she tried to give him a cheery smile.

The sound of the lift arriving reached them.

Stephanie held back from identifying it as "Isa," this time for fear that it would be like last time. A ridiculous part of her was just waiting for Seneca to waltz on into the room again.

But it was only Isa who appeared around the door and she was beaming brightly.

"I got the videos!" she exclaimed happily.

Stephanie swallowed, her throat was paper dry.

Time to face the music.


	51. Chaos with a Capitol C

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

******DOUBLE UP********DAT********E;**

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-One; Chaos with a Capitol C**

_(Stephanie's POV)_

They were seated in front of the TV screen much as they had been for watching the past Hunger Games only there was a few added to their company.

Alba sat beside Frenkin alternating between practically bouncing up and down on his seat in excited anticipation and murmuring reassurances to Frenkin who was trying to discreetly edge away from Alba the whole time.

Frenkin's other three stylists; Tess, El & Mirr were chatting giddily with Bright, Lashes and Silver. They seemed more excited about the possibility that they might have a few camera shots than anything else.

Ficen, cold and severe as ever sat stiffly with her eyes trained on the TV screen. Although she appeared to be engrossed in the droning Capitol report her gaze was unfocused as she listened intently to the buzzing conversations in the room.

Isa had managed this time to rustle up a big bowl of popcorn that sat perched on her knees while she munched contentedly, waiting impatiently.

Stephanie fidgeted on the sofa, trying to appear careless but looking a nervous wreck all the same.

Haymitch dropped down beside Stephanie, startling her and she shot him a glare which he ignored.

Isa hushed everyone noisily and the stylists rushed to grab seats waiting eagerly.

"Ladies first," Haymitch said.

"No," Stephanie practically growled, "Frenkin's."

Haymitch looked at her with a bored expression. "You are going to have to watch it eventually," he told her while Ficen rolled her eyes, the faintest ghost of a smirk on her lips.

Stephanie frowned. She knew she was only delaying the inevitable but hell she was going to delay it for as long as possible she thought folding her arms stubbornly.

With a resigned sigh Haymitch conceded and Frenkin's video began to play.

A smile tugged at Stephanie's lips as she watched Frenkin at his dinner date, it was clear he was overwhelmed as he glanced about him, blushing furiously but still appearing so very serious.

It was clear from the outset what angle they were going for in Frenkin's; innocent and childlike. There were a hundred shots that ended with stills of Frenkin with either a look of bewilderment or adorable confusion on his small face, then zooming in to his wide blue eyes. Stephanie grinded her teeth together, digging her nails into the leather sofa beneath her as she felt disgust and hated brew a potent mix in her.

She also watched with growing dread how the shopping at the boutique was supposed to have gone unlike her disastrous trip.

At the end of the video Flickerman appeared dressed in gaudy colours and with a sparkling white smile in his interview chair. He addressed the camera and began to speak.

"Well ladies and gentlemen that was District 3's Frenkin Handalriss, such a serious boy, maybe he will give us a smile in his interview tomorrow and some of that charm. However next is something I think we have all been a little eager for and you'll see why in a moment, its District 3's female tribute Stephanie Trindlesworth."

Flickerman laughed, flashing his perfect teeth at the cameras when the crowds cheered in enthusiasm.

And then Stephanie's video played.

...

"Sweetheart…take a deep breath," Haymitch's voice broke through Stephanie's stunned silence as her video ended.

"Stephanie pet I had no idea you were so…scandalous. You have been keeping so much from us," Isa cried, trying to appear upset but evidently buzzing with excitement.

"Bu..but that's not me…I mean it is me…but it's not true," Stephanie tried to defend childishly, her tongue felt as though it had gone to cotton in her mouth as her words stumbled over one another.

There was a series of high-pitched laughs as both teams of stylists exchanged furious whispers with not so discreet glances in her direction.

Stephanie had thought that the Capitol would try to string together the best shots of her, the few good parts avoiding little discrepancies like missed hours at parties and expensive necklaces at boutiques while providing viable excuses covering for her missed interview, but it seemed their angle for Stephanie was to embrace the chaos!

It had started showing her reaping and Chariot ride as Frenkin's had, Flickerman's voice commenting on the stylist's choice of outfits and calling her 'innocent sweet Stephanie.'

Then onto the screen exploded herself at the boutique right at the moment when the rumour of her 'two lovers' had begun and she had been trying to angrily defend herself.

Then the real chaos began; there was a blitz of images all of Stephanie either on the verge of collapse or generally sick looking. There was even one of Stephanie coming back from the disastrous meeting with Seneca at the photo-shoot with blood staining her neck, it looked like it had been gleaned from security footage.

Stephanie had almost felt like fainting all over again as she caught glimpses of herself being carried out, unconscious and with blood pulsing from the gash on her forehead to the car after the crowd hounding at the boutique. Flickerman hinted at a lover's quarrel and then it cut to the necklace giving at the boutique.

And the questions kept threading their way throughout; Who is her Capitol lover? Who is her District lover?

It cut to the dinner date and Flickerman hinted that it might be Dess and then Stephanie had to really constrain herself that time. However the next scene was the party and it pointedly showed Dess there and then went on to show her absence.

Flickerman's voice continued, "Where was our Miss Trindlesworth? Where had she disappeared to? Or rather to who had she disappeared to?"

Bright, Lashes and Silver had given delighted squeals as they appeared on the screen being interviewed. Stephanie noted that they were most helpful in describing everything they knew about the necklace incident. Stephanie couldn't contain the curse that escaped her lips as Bright held up the necklace and the cameras zoomed in on it. She turned to currently look at the three stylists gob-smacked. Little betraying airheads! However they were too enthralled watching themselves to notice or pay much attention to Stephanie who was slowly turning a very sickly colour.

The video closed with Flickerman promising the cheering crowds that he would get some answers from her at her interview tomorrow.

Stephanie's breaths were coming out in little spurts and her hands were trembling, though from rage or shock she wasn't sure.

Isa's bright green eyes were sparkling with mirth as she practically demanded answers when Stephanie vaulted from the room, her vision already swimming before her and a nauseous feeling overwhelming her.

Tears were gathering in her eyes, pricking stubbornly at the corners but she pushed them back as she staggered down the hall.

She felt angry and humiliated, they had made her out to be something she wasn't. Storming into her room and flinging herself prone onto her bed she hid her face in her hands, flushed scarlet with embarrassment thinking of her family watching it back home and people from her District. What would they think of her? Her family would know it wasn't true. But would others? And what did she care? She was going to die soon, what did it matter? But in the end she didn't want that to be how people remembered her.

Stephanie could only hear the blood pounding in her ears, her chest heaving with frustrated cries.

So Stephanie was a little startled when she felt the bed next to her welcome a new weight.

She turned ready to fling herself into Haymitch's arms but it wasn't Haymitch nor was it Frenkin who was her second guess.

Bright green eyes looked at her sympathetically. The sobs caught in Stephanie's throat as she sat up hastily scrubbing at her face.

Isa waited a few moments.

"Oh pet it really isn't that bad. You got noticed – that's good. I snuck a few quick previews of the other tributes and none of their videos is like yours!" Isa beamed happily, giving Stephanie's hand a little pat.

Stephanie groaned inwardly at Isa's words despite Isa meaning them as words of comfort, Stephanie couldn't imagine anything worse. She was going to stick out like a sore thumb.

"Isa is there any way to amend the videos before they're released or shown publically," Stephanie pleaded hopefully.

Isa frowned a little. "No pet, they have already been released," Stephanie dropped her head into her hands with a muttered curse. "Oh pet really I promise you it's good. Out of all my tributes you have been the most exciting," Isa whispered conspiratorially. "My Little Isa loves you, all her friends are jealous because her mammy is a District escort," Isa added thoughtfully.

Stephanie sat up, glancing at Isa curiously.

"Little Isa?" Stephanie inquired.

Isa nodded vigorously, whipping out the 'phone' and with a few taps of her claws she turned and shoved the thing impatiently under Stephanie's nose.

Stephanie steadied the object, throwing a bewildered look at Isa before glancing down at the small screen.

Immediately Stephanie features softened and her lips formed a small 'oh' of surprise.

It was Isa, the wig on her head was surprisingly normal in shape despite the bright orange colour. She was pointing at the camera, nails as long as ever but even from the distance her bright green eyes were still startling. But it was a smaller pair of eyes, just as greener as green as Isa that held Stephanie's attention. In Isa's arms was a little girl with high dark pigtails, a wide bright smile; a few crooked teeth betraying how she hadn't yet been forced to Capitol standards, her small arms were flung lovingly around Isa's neck.

Stephanie stared at her. She looked so…normal? Granted the girl was wearing a dress of so many colours and sparkles it almost hurt to look at but…she was innocent.

"My Little Isa," Isa repeated.

"She's your daughter?" Stephanie asked for confirmation.

Isa nodded, smiling brightly as Stephanie returned the phone to her. Isa glanced at the picture, smiling fondly to herself before she returned it to her pocket.

"She just turned seven and she is a complete doll!" Isa exclaimed.

Stephanie couldn't help but smile.

"She looks a lot like you," Stephanie commented.

Isa gave a delighted little squeal, "I always thought so too," Isa agreed, "that's why I named her Isa."

Stephanie couldn't help but laugh and when she looked at Isa she paused for a moment.

Isa; Escort for District 3, Capitolite...Mother.

"Thanks Isa," Stephanie said earnestly.

Isa smiled. "Now, now don't thank me just yet. We still have so much work to do missy! Now hurry and fix your face up pet, so we can prepare for the interview," Isa gave her hand one last reassuring pat before skipping from the room.

Stephanie stared after her, not quite sure what to think.

Isa seemed so much more…human, and not the different Capitol species she had viewed her as earlier.

But in the same thought there was a bitterness that Little Isa would grow up safe without the fear of the Games hanging over her head while Little Eldi back home would fear each year for her life and then for the life of any of her siblings that would follow, scraping and sacrificing just to survive.

The lines that divided the Capitol people from the District seemed insurmountable at that moment.


	52. District & Capitol Lovers

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

**AN; Sorry for that unplanned hiatus. If I have any readers left by this stage you might be relieved to hear that I have the ending planned out; it's just about getting there now, but just to assure you I WILL finish this. **

**So without further ado…**

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Two; District & Capitol Lovers**

Stephanie relished the feel of the cool water on her burning cheeks. Tears had been a too common occurrence recently and she had practically rubbed her eyes raw the past few days.

"Stephanie!" she whipped around as she caught Haymitch's hushed whisper.

"Bathroom," she called. Haymitch appeared at the door, he took one look at her, frowned and then sighing wrapped his arms around her, pressing a chaste kiss to her hair.

"Is there a way to salvage this?" she asked.

"Your interviewing tactics have got to change that's for sure," Haymitch answered.

Stephanie groaned, burying her face deeper into Haymitch's blazer.

Haymitch held her for a few moments before he gently pushed her back, holding her by the shoulders to face him.

He took a deep breath. Stephanie gulped. He looked like he was about to tell her something particularly ominous and Stephanie wasn't sure just how much more she could take after that video.

"It's up to you how you want to play this," he told her, giving her shoulders a tender squeeze.

Stephanie stared at him, confusion creasing her features before recognition flickered in her eyes.

He was asking her about the interview. Haymitch was giving her permission to tell Flickerman about him and her.

Stephanie felt her stomach twist nervously. To tell Flickerman would mean a Panem-wide announcement; everyone would know.

Her family back home in District 3. They might not believe Capitol rumours about lovers here and there but coming direct from her own lips…is that how she wanted them to find out? But then what other chance would she get?

Then there were all the other Capitol people who would know; how would Isa react? Her stylists? Ficen might have had suspicions but this would be the confirmation and what would Ficen do about it?

Eventually her thoughts halted at one particular person.

Seneca.

What would he do? Would this be the discouragement needed to keep him away? She doubted it. Could announcing it put Haymitch at risk?

Stephanie remained lost in her own thoughts, for a few moments forgetting that Haymitch was standing in front of her; until she felt Haymitch's hands gave her shoulders a slight shake, prompting her.

The glazed look left her eyes as Haymitch stared at her expectantly, waiting for her answer.

She shook her head slowly as she weighed the possible outcomes of the proposition.

"No. I won't let the Capitol take this and make it into some cheap selling ploy," she replied remembering her first decision, and stepping closer to him, she laced her fingers together around his neck.

She didn't want the other tributes to sneer at her, thinking it some way to get sponsors. She didn't want that to be how she was remembered, what Haymitch would be left with after…

Stephanie still remained doubtful of her winning prospects despite all though she kept them hidden as best she could from Haymitch.

It was a bittersweet thing loving Haymitch; to see him look at her like that, feel his lips soft and warm against her own, it felt right. But then there was the thoughts she tried desperately to bury of the hurt she would inevitably cause Haymitch were she to fall in the arena. It wouldn't matter about her, she wouldn't be around to feel anything. But Haymitch…but this was one selfish thing she couldn't deny herself.

Stephanie pressed her lips against Haymitch's, for a moment before tightening her hold around him.

He sighed, wrapping his arms securely around her waist.

"Your mine and mine alone," she whispered in his ear, pressing herself against him suggestively.

Haymitch grinned. "That's awfully greedy of you sweetheart," he said, one of his hands slipping from around her waist, dipping lower.

Just as she gasped sharply he pulled away from her smirking when it took her a moment to recover from her flustered shock.

"As tempting an offer sweetheart we have work to do," he said and winked.

She scowled at him, though she couldn't help a weak smirk that tugged stubbornly at her lips.

…

Frenkin didn't have to work on his interview much more and any practice he needed Isa helped him with it.

The stylists including Ficen and Alba had gone to ensure everything was ready for tomorrow complete with back-up outfits and to get their own outfits ready if the wisps of excited chatter that Stephanie overheard where anything to go by.

The biggest work to be done now was with Stephanie and her interview as she had to prepare for some rather different questions.

Haymitch was helping her with her interview in the main room.

"Who is your District Lover?" Haymitch asked cutting to the chase straight away.

Stephanie swallowed the lump in her throat, hoping that Flickerman wouldn't go straight for the jugular so to speak.

"Erm…"Stephanie faltered and floundered for a few moments, opening and closing her mouth like a fish underwater while Haymitch looked on unimpressed.

"Who is your Capitol Lover then?" Haymitch hashed on.

Stephanie glowered at him.

"I have none," she replied stiffly.

"Who was the necklace from?" Haymitch pressed.

"I don't know," she answered.

"Where were you at the party?"

"The bathroom,"

"By yourself?"

"Yea, funny enough I'm potty-trained,"

Haymitch gave her a hard look.

Stephanie leaned back on the sofa forcibly, completely exasperated.

"I'm done for," Stephanie stated miserably.

She heard Haymitch take a deep breath and cracking open an eye she saw him swig generously from a bottle of vodka. Stephanie frowned, where the hell did he keep pulling these bottles of drink from?

He turned to her again, having seemingly built up his nerve once more.

"Let's try again," he replied evenly. Stephanie wasn't entirely happy that he didn't correct her assessment of being proverbially screwed.

"We need to try and divert attention away from this," Stephanie waved her arms about to symbolise that she meant everything.

Haymitch was thoughtful for a few moments as Stephanie watched him hopefully.

"Right," Haymitch turned to her with a determined light in his eyes.

"When Flickerman asks you if you have a District Lover say yes,"

Stephanie's eyes widened as protests began to form on her lips.

"You don't have to name him," Haymitch reassured.

Stephanie shifted uncomfortably remembering how the crowd had hounded her at the boutique, she doubted simply saying yes would make things better.

"What if they ask me about a Capitol Lover?" she asked.

"No," Haymitch answered simply.

Stephanie chewed on her lip for a moment considering it.

She knew she wasn't good under pressure and the last thing she needed was to faint …again.

"And the necklace and the missing time at the party etc?" Stephanie asked.

"Try and keep Flickerman's attention focused most on your District Love. Tell them how much you are in love with him etc. It could gain you sympathy and with it sponsors,"

Stephanie's eyes hardened at the thoughts of pity sponsors but she knew better than to make a big deal out of it. She would rather be alive than dead with her pride intact.

"And if he manages to steer it back to the other matters?" Stephanie pressed still unsure.

"Tell him you have no idea. Tell him you have a Capitol admirer but that you have no idea who it is. In fact…," Haymitch leaned forward eager now, "Tell Flickerman that you would like to give a message to your admirer and spin off some speech about how you are flattered but that you cannot return the sentiment. That way it will turn the attention away from you and they will be occupied with a manhunt for your secret admirer," Haymitch explained.

Stephanie was silent for a few moments as she thought. What choice did she have really?

Swallowing determinedly Stephanie gave a curt nod in affirmation.

"Fine. I'll do it."

…

Lying in bed that night Stephanie hadn't very much time to reconsider her decision for two very good reasons.

One she was in Haymitch's bed. And two Haymitch was being perfectly distracting.

With a comforting and familiar ease Stephanie's mouth opened up under Haymitch's, her legs opening to wrap around Haymitch's waist and press him closer to herself.

One of her hands was entwined with Haymitch's while Haymitch had her other arm pinned above her head. His body was moulded perfectly to every contour of hers; her hips and ribs no longer so prominent now she had been getting a good feed.

Haymitch released his hold on her and his hands drifted to her shirt where he began to fumble at the buttons.

Stephanie inhaled sharply, her eyes flying open wide.

"This isn't advisable," she warned in a whisper.

Haymitch paused, his nose was brushing hers, his grey eyes were bright and held an emotion that Stephanie knew was reflected in her own.

But Stephanie swallowed trying to hold her resolve, wishing she had some ice water to douse her fevered skin and to try and dampen the hot feeling that was slowly coiling tighter at the pit of her stomach. It didn't help either that Haymitch knew how to just exactly rock his hips ever so teasingly against her.

Haymitch's hands stilled on the second button as he looked at her questioningly.

"What if someone catches us?" she asked, but even in her own mind her voice was weak.

"They won't. I've locked the door. Isa has gone to her own home for tonight and Frenkin is hardly coming to come in here is he sweetheart?" Haymitch reasoned.

"What if he does?" she argued.

"Do you want me to stick a 'Do not Disturb' sign on the door?" he replied sarcastically.

Stephanie bit her lip thoughtfully, frowning up at him for a moment. He smirked back at her and then she relented.

Haymitch moved with deliberate slowness unbuttoning the shirt until it fell open. He hovered above her for a moment on his elbows to look at the revelation with a rakish grin of male appraisal while Stephanie blushed scarlet.

She grabbed him roughly by the collar yanking him down to her once more where she kissed him hungrily. He took her bottom lip in his mouth, pressing down gently with his teeth.

She couldn't help the moan that burst from her throat that seemed multiplied tenfold in the dark quiet room.

She could have sworn she heard Haymitch chuckle but concentration had gone out the window a while ago.

She ran her hands over his shoulders and then frowned and began to tug at the stiff shirt.

"Not fair," she complained between kisses.

She felt his smile against her lips as he willingly complied, his hold around her disappearing for a moment as he stripped off the shirt.

It fell to the ground with a quiet rustle, only to be joined by Stephanie's a moment after.

Stephanie's breathing hitched up a few notches as she almost shyly ran her hands over the bare skin, feeling shifting muscles below her fingertips. Her hands dipped between them to run over Haymitch's stomach, kneading the muscle there.

She heard Haymitch's deep moan mingle with her own sharp gasps in the darkness as her fingers brushed the waistline of his trousers.

Stephanie had never felt so heady, she almost felt drunk. But this feeling wasn't like that one time she had gotten drunk at the party, everything was clear; every teasing touch was like fire licking across her skin.

Stephanie allowed her hand to drift lower between their bodies where she could feel Haymitch's attraction pressing against her very pelvic bone.

Haymitch's lips stilled over hers for a moment as he strangled a sharp gasp in his throat.

Stephanie pressed a sweet feather-touch kiss to his lips as he recovered.

"I can be persuasive when I want to be," Stephanie whispered coyly.

She heard Haymitch chuckle slightly breathless in response.

And that night Stephanie showed Haymitch just how persuasive she could be with Haymitch a more than willing participant.

* * *

**Concerning the little bit at the end there; I really wish I had of asked this last chapter :/ But anyways I didn't know how far to push it so I kinda chickened out at the end there you probably noticed. However if people would like the rating to go up or whatever please feel free to leave a review telling me so or your thoughts etc. Just a heads up I CANNOT write explicit smut, believe me it would just be awful if I tried but there is room to heat things up a bit…if you want that is. **

**As always thanks to anyone who reads.**

**Megan; Thanks for the reviews & I hope you continue to enjoy. **


	53. I Hate You

**Disclaimer; I own nada**

**DOUBLE UPDATE!**

**Bit of fluff & a bit of plot: mostly fluff. Enjoy **

* * *

**Chapter Fifty–Three; I Hate You**

Stephanie woke that morning feeling safer and more secure than she had in what felt like her entire lifetime.

For a few moments she basked in the warmth of being wrapped in Haymitch's arms, feeling his breath stir the hair at the nape of her neck sending shivers down her spine. For a few moments she could forget that she was a tribute for the Hunger Games; imagine the sun streaming brightly in through the windows was back home in District 3 and not here in the Capitol.

But lying there silently enjoying it she knew that she would have to move soon.

Today was the interview, and Isa and a whole other horde of people would soon be swarming about the place.

Groaning Stephanie turned in Haymitch's arms managing to elbow him in the ribs as she did so.

He awoke groggily with a muttered curse, squinting open one eye to stare up at her.

Leaning on her elbow she hovered above him staring down at him with an amused expression.

"Your bedside manner leaves much to be desired," he said dryly, shutting his eyes once more.

She nudged his shoulder forcibly, "What did you expect true love's first kiss?" she replied.

His eyes remained shut but he smirked remembering their first meeting.

A contented silence fell between them, but in those few moments Stephanie's thoughts unwillingly went to the interview that would take place within hours.

She forced herself to breathe calmly, telling herself that hysteria was the last thing she needed.

Haymitch opened his eyes as he felt her body tense beside his, her eyes were wide and nervous and she was chewing on her bottom lip.

He opened his mouth to say something but she cut across him before he got the chance, "I'm fine," and then she whipped back the covers and without another word disappeared into the bathroom.

A few moments later the sound of rushing water could be heard.

…

Stephanie got out of the shower feeling significantly better but no less nervous. She felt like a taunt bow; her nerves were just simmering beneath the surface and while she was holding them in control now, the slightest thing would cause her to explode.

Securing a towel around her, she walked into Haymitch's adjoining bedroom only to find it empty. Now where had he gone to?!

Checking the coast was clear Stephanie darted across the hallway to her own room and dressed swiftly in the first things that came to hand. It wouldn't matter anyway seeing as Ficen would style her for the interview.

At the table Frenkin was already sitting down eating breakfast. Stephanie took one look at the food and felt sick down to her stomach but with a determined grimace she forced herself to eat at least a few spoonfuls of cereal.

Isa appeared halfway through, bounding into the room. She looked like she had been up since the crack of dawn in an outfit so bright canary yellow it risked health and safety.

"Right my little pets time to get ready," Isa clapped her hands together giddily.

Stephanie met Frenkin's eyes for a moment. In them she could see the nerves that were causing her own hands to tremble and so she tried her best to summon up a reassuring smile; for Frenkin's sake at least.

"Haymitch pet where are you?" Stephanie snapped her head around just in time to see Isa disappear in the direction of the bedrooms.

Stephanie swiftly got up feeling a sinking feeling in her stomach.

She met Isa as she came out of Haymitch's room.

"Oh Stephanie pet, where's Haymitch" Isa asked, "Stephanie? …Stephanie! Oh pet today is not a good day to faint," Isa said as she had to rush to half-support Stephanie.

Stephanie had turned a sickly pale and a cold sweat had taken over.

"I thought he was with you," Stephanie admitted meekly.

Isa shook her head confused, the blonde wig tilting precariously to one side.

"No pet, he's meant to be here," Isa said, her wide green eyes sympathetic.

Stephanie's thoughts raced. Surely Haymitch on this day when every camera in Panem would be watching them hadn't sneaked off to do something that could get him killed?

"I'm going to kill him," Stephanie threatened in a low voice.

Something else to worry about was the last thing she needed today.

"Kill who?" Stephanie had to stop herself just in time from flinging herself into Haymitch's arms as he appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

"It's alright Isa, I've got this one. Ficen and Alba have just arrived."

Isa gladly shifted Stephanie over to Haymitch, looking relieved that Stephanie no longer seemed on the verge of collapse.

"I'm alright Isa," Stephanie attempted to reassure the escort.

Isa seemed dubious however with one more last sceptical look at Stephanie who still seemed a little pale, Isa turned and went down the hall to greet the stylists.

A few moments later and delighted squeals could be heard as opinions were exchanged on outfits.

"Where the hell were you?" Stephanie demanded in a fierce whisper.

"Good morning to you too," Haymitch replied dryly.

Stephanie shrugged off Haymitch's supporting arm to stand by herself, folding her arms stubbornly.

"This isn't fair Haymitch. You keep disappearing without notice and you're up to something! I want to know and don't lie to me!"

"Are you finished?" Haymitch asked, folding his own arms.

"Don't make me sound like I am being unreasonable!" Stephanie answered angrily.

Haymitch inhaled deeply and before Stephanie could open her mouth to say something else Haymitch grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him so their faces were mere inches apart.

"Stephanie…anything I keep from you is to protect you – you know that," Haymitch said, as he met her eyes willing her to understand.

"That's not fair. We're in this together," Stephanie argued, her eyes rimming fast with tears.

Haymitch sighed and pressed his forehead against hers as he slipped his arms about her waist.

It was a few moments but finally Stephanie relaxed and returned the embrace, a few tears spilling over. She sniffed them back feeling suddenly very childish.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled into Haymitch's shoulder. "It's just today…I'm frightened if I mess up and…I'm frightened about what you're doing. I don't want anything to ever happen to you. You annoy the bloody hell out of me sometimes but I love you…so much that…that it would kill me if anything happened to you because you were being a damn idiot."

Haymitch chuckled before he held her out at arm's length so they could face one another.

She rubbed at her cheeks that were now red and puffy once more – thanks to Haymitch. She scowled at him and he smirked.

"What did I ever do to end up with you?" he asked.

Stephanie punched his shoulder lightly but she was smiling.

He kissed her then, soft, sweet and reassuring.

"I love you too despite your violent tendencies and I'm going to do everything to make sure you…we get through this, so stop being so stubborn," he kissed the tip of her nose. "Ficen's waiting," and as if on cue Isa began calling for them.

Stephanie and Haymitch walked down the hall toward where the stylists and Isa were gathered in the main room.

"I really do hate you sometimes," Stephanie remarked, shoving his shoulder playfully.

Haymitch smirked and there was relief in his eyes. Stephanie was no longer the nervous wreck she was a few minutes ago, her eyes were clear and sparkling with mischief. Haymitch smiled to see it; he had seen them filled with tears far too often recently.

"Yeah, well I hate you too," he replied and she laughed bright and untroubled in response.

Haymitch smirked. It still took him by surprise that somehow in one of the most unlikeliest places; the Capitol – a place of despair, betrayal and death that he had found something bright and beautiful, something worth fighting for and living for. It was why he was determined to do everything possible to protect her. Everything so that Stephanie would live; no matter the cost.

* * *

**Next Chapter; The other tributes appear :O – Yes they do exist :P**


	54. Storm

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games **

* * *

**Chapter Fifty Four; Storm**

The styling had of course gone on for hours, so much so that Stephanie had fainted. However for once it had been because of a lack of sustenance rather than from nerves though they were in abundance also.

Stephanie reluctantly swallowed down the bowl of food they had brought her and washed it down with a glass of something that was far too sweet.

However it allowed her to stand through the rest of the styling. Ficen had picked a halter neck green silk dress for Stephanie that fitted tightly until her knees where it flared out and trailed behind her. It took Stephanie at least a half hour to master walking in the gold heels without falling over the dress' train. Stephanie suspected Ficen had picked it purposefully but she was too worried about other things to try and argue with her.

The car ride to the destination where the interviewing would be taking place was a mixed one.

On one hand there was Stephanie, Frenkin and Haymitch sitting tense and silent and then there was Isa, Alba and the rest of the stylists who were giddy and excited. Ficen seemed to be thoroughly bored, offering only minimal input.

The car ride wasn't that long thankfully or what felt like no time at all to Stephanie and Frenkin.

The car door was opened and even though they had been warned for it the sudden onslaught of camera flashes almost had Stephanie fainting. Haymitch got out first while the stylists and Isa jumped out eagerly from the other side.

Haymitch leaned in, holding out his hand for Stephanie. She took it, giving it a grateful squeeze and trying to draw as much strength from the gesture as possible.

As soon as she stepped outside from the safety of the car, the Capitol media storm hit her. She tried to stand as close to Haymitch as possible. A few yards ahead, Bright, Lashes, Silver, Isa, Alba, Tess, El & Mirr stood basking in the media glory. Ficen was there too, though she stood out as aloof, looking down at the photographers with contempt.

Stephanie had never felt so small in her life. She really did feel like she had been caught in a storm.

The photographers and reporters beat against the guards, raining down questions at her and Frenkin. She tried to ignore them as per Haymitch's instructions as they made their way forwards. The noise was deafening like thunder and all around her the camera flashes were like lightening that struck out unexpected and blinding. Stephanie tried to keep a pleasant smile on her face but she had an inkling suspicion it looked more like a grimace. She felt the only two things keeping her secured to the ground were Haymitch's hand on the small of her back guiding her and Frenkin's hand clinging to hers.

After a moment or two of posing for photos they finally moved on and disappeared behind huge doors that shut automatically behind them.

Before them fluorescent lights lit a cold white staircase that led down. They descended it and followed another long corridor that split into two at the end.

Stephanie swallowed as she recognised the now familiar registering station.

"Haymitch," his name had slipped from between her lips before she could stop it.

He glanced at her, slipping his hand from the small of her back to grasp her hand tightly for a moment.

They reached the end of the corridor.

"Tributes to the right, all others to the left," the woman in Capitol uniform instructed in a monotone.

Isa clapped giddily, rushing over to Stephanie and Frenkin and speaking so fast it was impossible to understand her. From a few words Stephanie managed to glean from the onslaught; it seemed like advice or words of encouragement. Isa dabbed at her eyes, overcome with emotion after a few moments that her 'little pets' were getting ready for their first big interview.

If Isa was emotional then Alba was downright hysterical, he fixed Frenkin's collar once more and then broke down only to be ushered down the corridor by Frenkin's three stylists who all wished them luck.

Bright, Lashes and Silver seemed to have forgotten that things had been a little distant between themselves and their tribute recently and Bright even went so far as to throw her arms around Stephanie for a brief moment.

Ficen of course was not so sentimental. She checked Stephanie's dress was in order and then without a word turned left followed by Bright, Lashes and Silver.

Isa waited as Haymitch gave last words of advice.

Checking to make sure Alba was out of sight, Haymitch ruffled Frenkin's hair, "You'll be alright kid, just remember what we practiced," he reassured. Frenkin blushed a little, pushing his glasses up on his nose and nodded promising that he would.

Next Haymitch turned to Stephanie, he met her eyes, his hand brushing against hers for the briefest of moments. There was little they could express here with Isa and the Capitol guards standing watch.

"Remember what I said," Haymitch's words were nothing but a quiet murmur. Stephanie nodded, breathing in shakily.

"I remember," she promised.

"Then you have nothing to worry about," he replied.

She smiled at him then and nodded.

The Capitol official behind them cleared her throat pointedly and with reluctance Haymitch turned left with Isa.

Stephanie and Frenkin were registered in the usual way with a prick of their finger before they moved on down the corridor to the right escorted by a Capitol guard.

Stephanie gripped Frenkin's hand almost painfully as they followed the guard dutifully, their steps echoing off the walls.

Finally they reached another door and the guard opened it, standing to the side to let them pass.

When they entered the room, it seemed to be a waiting room of some sort. On one side there were huge windows that stood wide open; however they were far too high up in the wall to pose any risk of escape. And besides as expected the room had guards stationed in it, standing silently at the two doors and around the perimeter of the room.

Through the open windows Stephanie could still hear the media storm raging outside, highlighted even more so by the silence that had suddenly fallen over the occupants in the room as Stephanie and Frenkin entered.

Stephanie felt her stomach flip nervously; her palms go sweaty and her mouth dry. She tried to steady her nerves, knowing that this was definitely not a time to faint, if ever there was one.

She vaguely recognised their faces as they stared at her and Frenkin unashamedly as they sized them up. And from the look of smugness and even hints of relief in their faces Stephanie knew what they saw. Stephanie and Frenkin were nothing to them and the look terrified Stephanie more than if they had of looked interested. But they hadn't. Barely a look and they had already set Stephanie and Frenkin aside as unimportant and nothing to worry about. It was the tributes from District's 1 & 2; the Careers.


	55. Twenty – Four Tributes

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Five; Twenty – Four Tributes**

Stephanie felt Frenkin give her hand a reassuring squeeze that broke her from her stupor.

On shaking legs she made her way over a small arrangement consisting of a low table and comfortable chairs that was in the room. There was a crystal pitcher of ice water and glasses on the table. Stephanie in an attempt to calm her nerves by busying herself reached for the pitcher to pour herself a glass of water though from the trembling of her hands she feared she would drop and smash the thing.

But her fingertips got to no more brushing the handle of the crystal pitcher when it was snatched from under her grasp.

"Here let me get that for you," It was one of the boys from District 1 or 2.

He poured her a glass of water which Stephanie accepted numbly, mumbling her thanks. The boy then poured Frenkin a glass before he took a seat facing them.

Stephanie sipped on the water, grateful for an excuse not to talk. But what was she meant to say? 'Hello, Stephanie Trindlesworth here, you're probably going to kill me in the arena but nice to meet you.'

Stephanie swallowed nervously before lowering the glass to the table. With nothing else to distract her she fidgeted with one of the gold bracelets on her wrist, averting her gaze from the boy sitting across from them.

He had the physique of a Career that much was evident. His stylist seemed to have chosen a shirt that was two sizes too small for him, as the silk material was stretched across his torso fit to burst, though Stephanie suspected that was the idea as with each slight movement it was clear to see the rippling muscles beneath the material and the bulging biceps. Stephanie tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she eyed the boys hands that he had clasped together casually in front of him as he leaned forward facing them. Could those hands snap someone's neck? My neck? The answer was easily of course.

She felt Frenkin's gaze on her as he looked up to her, looking for reassurance or something. He was as much uncomfortable in this situation as she was.

"I'm Cron!" Stephanie had to stop herself from falling off the chair as the boy spoke again.

She looked up at him. He certainly did have the physique of a Career she thought again as she even thought she saw a few pale scars across his face. Scars from practice. Practice that would make him deadly.

But when she looked in the boy's face…he didn't seem as a Career should seem Stephanie faltered.

He was smiling brightly at both Stephanie and Frenkin, waiting for them to speak. He had dark blonde hair that was somewhat dishevelled. One side had been smoothed back as Frenkin's had on many occasions; however the other side was a mess of disorganised curls as though he had forgotten and ruffled his own hair. His eyes were a warm chocolate brown and they crinkled at the corners when he grinned. Which Stephanie noticed he was still doing, grinning at them inanely.

"I'm Stephanie and this is Frenkin," Stephanie answered after a moment's hesitation.

"Oh Frenkin, I knew a boy once called Frenkin…"Cron began but never got to finish for at that moment a girl's sharp voice cut across him.

"CRON! Get over her now," It was the girl with the glossy black hair. She looked like she could be no more than 16, her black hair had been curled into ringlets that bobbed with each slight turn of her head. She was small and slender with bright green eyes that were currently glaring at Stephanie and Frenkin.

"Oops gotta go," Cron said and stood up. Stephanie and Frenkin had to crane their necks to look up at him as he towered above them.

Cron swaggered over to the other three Careers, the girl with the short blonde hair looked amused, the girl that had called him appeared annoyed and the other boy looked completely bored.

"What's up cuz?" Cron boomed, it seemed his voice was just as big and imposing as he was.

"I told you not to call me that," the black haired girl hissed, her eyes darted back towards Stephanie and Frenkin and without meaning to Stephanie caught her eye.

Stephanie quickly dropped her gaze, the last thing she needed was a confrontation.

"What do you think that was about?" Frenkin whispered from beside her.

Stephanie glanced back discreetly at the four who stood a few metres away. Cron was being it seemed scolded by the black-haired girl but he just stood with his arms folded arrogantly with a huge grin on his face. The blonde hair girl was examining her nails and the other boy still looked completely and utterly bored.

"I don't know," Stephanie whispered back.

"Do you think it was a tactic to intimidate us?" Frenkin asked a little fearfully.

Even if it wasn't Stephanie thought it had done so anyway.

"I'm not sure," Stephanie answered.

Suddenly the door that Stephanie and Frenkin had come through opened. All six pairs of eyes in the room snapped around to eye the two new tributes as they entered the room.

The first to enter was a tall girl in a sleeveless white dress that hung loosely from her slender frame. Her thick black hair had been so tightly pulled back from her face into a ponytail at the back that it almost looked painful. She was tan highlighted more so by the crisp white of her dress…and strong Stephanie thought. The girl might have been thin but she was not weak, as evident in the girl's toned arms. The girl's fists were clenched tightly at her sides and she surveyed the room shrewdly, her mouth set in a thin line.

The boy who entered beside her was dressed in a navy suit, he was not as tall as his female district partner even if she was wearing heels. He had shaggy brown hair that fell over his eyes that widened slightly in fear as he seen Cron bounding over to them.

Even from here Stephanie could see how the girl tensed, Cron blocked the boy completely from her sight with his massive hulk.

"CRON!" it was the black-haired girl again, and her voice was edged with frustration but this time Cron ignored her.

Stephanie heard Cron make his booming introduction. The girl and boy answered but she didn't hear their responses and before Cron could continue the bored boy had it seemed under the black-haired girl's increasing insistence went over.

"Come on Cron," he drawled and taking Cron's collar like a one might take a dog he forcibly dragged him back over to the two girls in their group, the black-haired one even more annoyed and the blonde one even more amused.

The girl and the boy who Stephanie now assumed to be District 4's tributes still loitered unsure at the door.

That is until the girl struck out on her own and made straight for the group of Careers. The boy began to follow and then diverted immediately when he realised where his district partner was heading.

Instead the boy came and sat facing Frenkin and Stephanie. He made a point of avoiding their gaze though.

Stephanie gulped as she watched the girl without the slightest hint of apprehension approach the Careers who turned to face her with some surprise on their faces, except for Cron who just stood grinning.

The girl was speaking but she spoke so low that Stephanie couldn't hear her. Stephanie began to feel uneasy as looks of calculation appeared on the Career's faces.

Stephanie looked around the room, for the first time since arriving in the Capitol, Stephanie was glad that there were guards in the room with them.

Stephanie felt Frenkin's hand reach down to clutch her own and she was glad that she was not alone like the boy facing them.

The conversation with the girl and the Careers was interrupted when suddenly the door opened once more and two more tributes entered.

Stephanie gasped sharply as she recognised the girl. She was the one from the photo shoot, the one across the corridor who Stephanie had mistaken for Eldi.

The girl was wearing a black and white polka dotted dress that had a ridiculous amount of frills and layers. She had a huge bow on her head and was wearing glittering pumps. Beside her was her district partner who had a guiding hand on her shoulder. He was wearing a forest green suit with a hat that was tilted to one side. He was surprisingly tall though his face seemed younger.

There was a bit of commotion as it seemed Cron wanted to rush over and do introductions again but was hauled back by the black-haired girl. The girl in the white dress was still standing with the Careers but with a start Stephanie found that her gaze was on her.

Stephanie held the girl's gaze for as long as she dared. Stephanie was terrified of the girl without even having met her, but Stephanie would be damned before she would let her know it.

After what felt like an insufferable few moments the girl dropped her gaze and turned back to the Careers and Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief.

Stephanie turned to Frenkin to ask how he was holding up, only to find his gaze focused elsewhere.

Stephanie looked over her shoulder to where the two newest additions remained near the door.

The door opened again suddenly. It seemed the tributes were arriving faster, the cheers outside were growing louder as the crowds realised that the interviews were drawing near.

And for an almost imperceptible moment there was a companionship between them. They weren't tributes they were just children shoved together into a room, terrified and scared. But the moment passed and the two new tributes glanced about the room nervously.

District 6's girl made quite an entrance as she practically burst into the room, stumbling in the skyscraper heels before her district partner helped right her. She had wild curly red hair that framed her whole face like a lion's mane with no hopes of being tamed and her whole face had flushed a scarlet red that rivalled that of her hair. She looked ready to burst out crying and there were a few sniggers most noticeably from the Careers. Her district partner, a boy not much taller than her with short dark brown hair hauled her over to the nearest corner whispering something to her that appeared to calm the girl down.

A slight murmur started up around the room as in light of the more people entering the room it was too awkward to keep silent.

The door opened again; two more tributes; District 7.

The girl that entered was painfully lean, her eyes seemed unnaturally huge in her gaunt face. Her dress was short-sleeved and pale blue, it was flimsy and delicate but it still seemed to swamp her skeletal frame. She was tall and had fine blond-white hair that fell down past her shoulders. Stephanie didn't want to consider what the girl must have looked like before coming to the Capitol and receiving a good feed. Her District partner looked so close in appearance to her that Stephanie considered for a disturbing moment that they had to be related; siblings surely. But there seemed to be a distance between them as though they were strangers and they went in opposite directions as soon as they entered the room.

The girl actually approached the table and Stephanie couldn't help but watch her every move with a sort of morbid fascination. The girl reached for the water pitcher and for a moment Stephanie feared it would be too heavy for her to lift but with a heave the girl managed to lift it and pour herself a glass of water.

Then startling Stephanie the girl seated herself in the chair directly beside Stephanie's.

The door opened again and everyone in the room once more looked around to see the next two tributes.

A small girl with medium length brown hair entered and immediately blushed when she realised she was the centre of attention, her district partner entered with her but he brushed by her ignoring her, a few locks of black hair falling over his eyes as he walked with his head down.

The volume in the room rose and Stephanie felt her stomach twist nervously. She held her glass of water in her hands, but she didn't drink it, the water was no doubt warm now from her holding the glass for so long.

Suddenly it seemed that the black-haired Career girl could contain Cron no more and he bounded off to do introductions. The first person he came to was the girl sitting beside Stephanie.

"Hi I'm Cron," he boomed.

She eyed him warily for a moment before replying. "I'm Astara, female tribute for District 7." Her voice seemed just as fragile as she, wispy and weak but in her eyes there burned a fierce determination that had nothing weak about it.

Cron's grin widened. "Well I didn't think you were the male tribute," and then he burst out laughing, a deep rumbling laugh that could have been a roar.

Stephanie jumped slightly and Astara flinched.

Cron stopped laughing, "I'm from District 1," he added almost as an afterthought.

Astara gave him a wan smile as if to say where else?

The door opened again and they all looked around.

Cron without wasting anytime bounded over to meet the two new tributes. Stephanie caught a quick glimpse of a girl with auburn hair in a lime green dress before Cron's whole body blocked the girl and her district partner, an average height boy with brown hair from view.

"What was that about?" the question took Stephanie unawares as she whipped her head around to face Astara.

Astara stared straight back at Stephanie with her impossibly big blue eyes, a pale eyebrow arched questioningly.

"I don't know. He did the same with me and Frenkin," Stephanie replied.

Frenkin peeked over Stephanie's shoulder at the thin girl.

"I'm sure you heard but I'm Astara," and as she said it the girl held out a hand.

Stephanie hesitated for a moment before she accepted it and shook her hand. "I'm Stephanie and this is…"

"Frenkin," Astara finished with a small smile directed at Frenkin who had reverted back to his bashful self and was practically hiding behind Stephanie.

Stephanie nodded returning the smile.

The door behind them opened. Two more tributes entered but Stephanie couldn't see past the two previous tributes and Cron.

"What District are you from?" Astara's question brought Stephanie back.

"District 3, and you are from District 7?" Stephanie replied.

Astara nodded and glanced about the room. Stephanie followed her gaze until it fell upon Astara's district partner.

"Your district partner?" Stephanie prompted.

"His name is Tain," Astara answered before falling silent again.

Stephanie studied Astara's face for some clue as to if this Tain was related to Astara but Astara's face remained expressionless.

The door opened; two more tributes entered. Stephanie glanced over briefly. The volume in the room was rising as the population grew. District partners exchanged hurried conversations as they glanced about the room fearfully taking in the competition. Or some like Astara had broken away from their District partner to mingle among the others.

"How many districts is that?" Astara asked.

"Eleven I think," Stephanie answered.

But no sooner had Stephanie said it than the door opened again.

"Twelve," Astara amended with another small smile.

Stephanie returned it briefly. She looked about the room. So this was it.

These were the twenty-three people she would be facing in the arena. It seemed as the door closed that every other tribute in the room realised the exact same thing and a hushed silence seemed to fall.

Twenty-four tributes and only one of them would survive.

* * *

**Thanks to new follows; browniebite and dietrich2234**

**HungerGamesQueen100; Thanks so much for the review. I'm glad that the questions keep you coming back :]**

**Guest; Thanks :] **


	56. Unconventional Introductions

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Six; Unconventional Introductions **

The door opened again only this time it was the opposite door and it was a Capitol official who entered.

Silence was called for and when it was obtained the official began speaking.

"Five minutes. Please organise yourselves in order of your district from 1 to 12. Boys in one line, girls in the other."

The official whispered something to the guards beside him before he once more slipped from the room.

"Well…move." The guard yelled impatiently.

Stephanie subconsciously tightened her grip on Frenkin. She turned to face him, saw his wide frightened eyes and not caring what it would look like or what weaknesses it may expose she enveloped him in her arms.

"It's all going to be okay, I promise," Stephanie whispered but she barely believed herself.

Stephanie turned around but Astara had already gone and so Stephanie and Frenkin got up and made their way over to where the lines where hastily being thrown together.

Cron was at the front, hands on his hips as he grinned down at the rest of the line falling in behind him. His district partner was the small pixie girl with the black hair – no surprise there Stephanie thought. The girl was busy scowling at Cron as he actually seemed to be making an attempt to get everyone into order.

"Stephanie!" at the call of her name from the unfamiliar voice Stephanie snapped her head up. It was the Career girl with the short silky blonde hair. She was signalling Stephanie to come over.

Reluctantly Stephanie approached her. The girl gave Stephanie a dazzlingly smile. She was wearing a strappy silver sequined dress and matching heels. She was over a head taller than Stephanie and had an almost patronising look in her eyes as she looked down at Stephanie.

"Lana Blackell from District 2 – you're behind me," and with that said the girl flicked her shoulder length hair and turned her back on Stephanie.

Stephanie clenched her teeth together but she was too nervous to start an argument and valued her life too much to argue with a Career.

Stephanie glanced to her left and saw Frenkin looking about him with wide eyes only magnified by his glasses. And then Stephanie felt an anger fill her as she looked ahead. There was Cron, practically a giant compared to Frenkin, and the District 2 boy, not as intimidating as Cron but still powerful. What chance did Frenkin or even she stand against them!

Stephanie stamped her foot in annoyance, "Damn Capitol!" she cursed in angered frustration.

"You should watch what you say," the low murmur came from behind and Stephanie whipped round to be met with a pair of dark eyes that returned her gaze unflinching.

"Who are you?" Stephanie demanded in a hushed whisper.

"District 4 – Slena," the girl in the white dress answered, "and you are Stephanie?"

Stephanie nodded, narrowing her eyes suspiciously, but the girl broke the gaze to turn and call to her district partner who was still glancing about him clueless.

"VIR … VIR, VIR! VIR! VVIIRRR!" Stephanie cringed at the deafening shouts and the boy in the navy suit tilted his head to the side and then he spotted his district partner.

Slena simply pointed to the vacant spot to the left of her.

Slena returned her gaze ahead of her, to once more meet Stephanie's.

"He's partially deaf," Slena explained tonelessly. Stephanie watched the boy Vir as he took his place to Slena's left. What chance would he have she thought sadly.

She glanced a few unfamiliar faces at the back but she never got a chance to investigate more as suddenly they started to move.

They were directed out of the room, flanked by numerous guards on either side. They went down a long corridor that brought them suddenly to a narrow flight of stairs ascending that could admit no more than two abreast at a time.

Stephanie took her dress in one hand, fervently hoping she wouldn't land face first and inwardly cursing Ficen once more.

They had gone up no more than four steps however when they came to a sudden halt and the guard that was escorting them began to have an argument with another guard that he had met along the corridor. It seemed there was a problem.

Stephanie however was so busy concentrating on her walking in heels that she smacked right into the back of the tribute in front of her creating a domino effect when Lana fell forward knocking into the District One girl.

Frenkin immediately reached out to grab Stephanie's arms to stop her from tumbling on top of Lana but it was Slena who roughly hauled Stephanie up that saved her from crashing into the floor.

Stephanie turned to face Slena. "Thank-you," Stephanie mumbled, her cheeks flaming red with embarrassment.

Slena had a slight smile playing on her lips.

Unfortunately for Lana and the District 1 girl, the District 2 boy appeared to be too busy being bored to stop her fall and Cron didn't realise until he turned to speak to his district partner and found her on the ground beside him and once Cron knew it seemed everyone knew.

Cron let out a bellowing laugh that reverberated down the narrow stairway where the tributes were crowded waiting nervously. Every head turned to see what had happened and there was a slight ripple of giggling went along the lines.

There was nothing malevolent or mocking in the laughter; it was merely everyone was so nervous and tense about their upcoming interviews. It seemed to break some of the suffocating tension anyway, as strangers exchanged smiles and the such.

For the briefest of seconds Stephanie even thought she saw the guard at the front of the line manage a smile but the moment of care-free laughter was just that; a moment.

The guard roughly helped the District One girl to her feet while Lana's district partner finally stepped in.

As soon as she was on her feet Lana rounded on her district partner, eyes blazing, "What happened to having each other's back eh Har?" she whispered bitterly and Stephanie could have sworn she saw a flash of hurt in Lana's eyes.

Her district partner Har shrugged nonchalantly. "We're not in the arena yet," he replied.

Stephanie waited for Lana to turn and lay into her but she didn't. Her expression went blank before she shrugged it off carelessly and smoothing down her already immaculate hair Lana turned to once more face the front.

However it seemed the black-haired girl was not so quick to forgive. She peeked around Lana's body, being too short to see over her head even if she was two steps above.

"You!" her voice was shrill, her green eyes seething as they looked on Stephanie.

Stephanie's breath caught in her throat. Stephanie didn't know if she was meant to apologise or not; in a normal situation of course but they were going to be trying to kill each other in a few weeks. What was an accidental push now?

Stephanie squared her shoulders and looked dead back at her, arching her eyebrow challengingly. Despite her confident stance Stephanie doubted if she could even manage an apology, her tongue felt like it had turned to lead in her mouth and so it seemed the safest option was to remain silent.

The lines of tributes had fallen silent again, except for Cron who was still laughing, his chest heaving with uncensored bellows.

The guard beside him glanced at him but he seemed reluctant to check Cron, giving Cron was three times bigger than him, even if the guard did have weapons for protection.

"Stop laughing you imbecile!" the black-haired girl whipped her head around to scream at Cron, her black curls bobbing furiously.

"Oh for…go down a pirouette or something Tarii!" to Stephanie's surprise it was the bored District 2 boy who spoke, as he leaned casually against the wall, rolling his eyes when the black-haired girl Tarii's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Come on cuz, no harm no foul," Cron said, with a huge grin.

Tarii turned once more on Cron, rising up to her full height, which was barely reaching Cron's shoulders.

"How many times do I have to tell you idiot never to call me that," she hissed, her hands curled into small angry fists at her sides.

Tarii once more turned to Stephanie, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Tarii come on," it was Lana this time. "Is it really worth it?" Lana spared a glance over her shoulder at Stephanie, her gaze holding nothing but apathy. Stephanie didn't know whether to feel offended or relieved that she evidently meant so little to Lana.

Tarii glared for a moment more at Stephanie murderously before her lip curled into a sneer. "You're right; there will be plenty of time for that in the arena…plenty," and with that Tarii turned around and Stephanie released the breath she didn't realise she had been holding.

She felt Frenkin's hand nudge her own as he gazed up at her with a shocked expression, his eyes seemingly magnified by his glasses. Stephanie attempted a shaky smile.

"Looks like you've made an enemy," Slena's low murmur sent a shiver up Stephanie's spine.

She turned her head slightly so she could just make out Slena in the periphery of her vision.

Had she really just put a target on herself? Stephanie thought incredulous. All she had done was fall for goodness sake!

Stephanie was just considering if maybe she should try and make some attempt of an apology to Tarii when Slena's words cut across her thoughts like ice.

"But then we're all enemies after all." Slena's cold assessment turned Stephanie's blood cold.

Stephanie found herself once more assessing those around her in a detached clinical way that chilled her to the bone to recognise in herself but she almost couldn't help it.

Her eyes passed over Cron, Har, Tarii and Lana; the Careers. Stephanie knew she would be no match for Cron and his daunting physique and strength and Har despite looking impassive and unconcerned about his surroundings most the time; Stephanie suspected that he was far more alert when he wanted to be.

Lana had height over Stephanie and Tarii despite looking like a delicate ballerina no doubt disguised some deadly talent; after all she was a Career Stephanie reasoned.

Stephanie casually turned her head to glance down the lines, her face half-covered in the shadow of a curtain of her hair.

Stephanie could match Slena in physique; they were near enough the same height but Stephanie felt sure that Slena would beat her with experience. Slena's district partner Vir; the partially deaf boy, that could be an advantage, sneaking up behind him?

But even through taciturn calculating eyes the thought settled uneasily in Stephanie.

Stephanie's gaze immediately skimmed over the District 5 girl who was adjusting the huge bow on her head with trembling hands. Stephanie knew she couldn't kill her; it would be like killing Eldi. But then…Stephanie reasoned Eldi was the part of the reason she was doing this, so she could return home to her.

The District 5 boy looked even younger up closer, but it was hard to tell with the hat casting most of his face in shadow. He was watching his district partner and after a few moments of her struggling he muttered something and she dropped her hands from the bow with a bashful smile while he fixed it for her.

Stephanie moved on feeling a pang in her heart for home and the times when she would tie ribbons in Eldi's hair for some special occasions.

Stephanie not wanting to make it obvious what she was doing could only catch a glimpse of the District 6 girl and even then it was only a flash of the girl's flame red hair as she had her back to Stephanie while she was talking hurriedly with her district partner, the boy was smaller than Stephanie but taller than Frenkin. He didn't look to be particularly strong but then it was hard to tell.

A restlessness had begun to come over the waiting tributes as nerves began to kick in once more with nothing to do but wait in this narrow stairway. Stephanie wondered why they didn't just escort them back to the room but then the Capitol people never did seem to do things that made sense to her.

"It shouldn't be long now," Frenkin's timid reassurance disturbed Stephanie from her observations and she glanced down to reiterate Frenkin's assurance only to find that Frenkin hadn't been speaking to her.

He was speaking to the District 5 girl with the bow in her hair, who looked like Eldi.

It seemed the girl wanted to know why they weren't moving on, being as she was too small to see over the heads of those in front of her. She considered Slena too intimidating to ask and Vir obviously hadn't heard her but Frenkin had.

"Thank-you," she answered with a bashful smile, the bow once more sliding side-wards on her head. She reached up to stop it, blushing in embarrassment.

"You're the District 5 girl?" Frenkin inquired, his own cheeks had acquired a tint of rosy flush Stephanie noted with a sad smile.

"Ava," the girl clarified, her green eyes brightening a little.

"I'm Frenkin, pleased to meet you Ava," Frenkin replied, extending a small hand.

Stephanie couldn't help but smile at the exchange even if her heart did weigh heavier with the foreboding knowledge of how the budding friendship would come to an end one way or another in the next few weeks.

Slena had witnessed the exchange as well, given as Ava had to reach by her to shake Frenkin's hand. Slena met Stephanie's gaze, her dark eyes almost amused as she arched an eyebrow at Stephanie questioningly.

Stephanie glared at her in response but Slena's expression fell, as her gaze suddenly became intent as it focused on something somewhere over Stephanie's shoulder. Stephanie followed her line of vision.

At the top of the stairs a new guard had appeared; his expression was stony as his eyes took in the tributes still crowded in on the narrow staircase hemmed in by guards at either end. He began to converse in low tones with one of the guards near the front, the woman's face was tense as she listened, nodding obediently.

Stephanie watched for a moment or two longer trying to decipher what was going on but they were too far away and speaking too lowly. Besides even if they weren't Cron had taken to recounting a tale from home to pass the time, rather raucously it had to be said. He seemed undeterred by Har and Tarii's evident disinterest. Lana was watching his theatrics amused but it was hard to tell whether the amusement on her face was condescending or hinted at genuine interest.

"It seems there is a problem," Slena's murmur was surprisingly distinctive despite the noise and startled Stephanie.

Stephanie turned to face her with a questioning look on her face but Slena merely looked back, the slightest hint of a knowing smile on her lips.

The notion that Slena could lip-read was not a comforting one Stephanie thought.

"Stephanie!" Frenkin's tug on her arm momentarily pulled Stephanie away from her musings over Slena.

Stephanie looked to Frenkin expectantly.

"Ava this is Stephanie," Frenkin repeated.

Stephanie glanced at Ava who looked back, her lime green eyes staring up at Stephanie fearfully. Stephanie couldn't blame her; Ava was even smaller than Frenkin…in fact, a quick look around and Ava seemed to be the smallest tribute.

Stephanie smiled kindly at her, "Nice to meet you Ava," and Stephanie shook Ava's small hand in hers.

Ava responded in kind and then added, "and this is Prall. Prall this is Stephanie and Frenkin from District 3," Ava tugged insistently on her district partner's sleeve.

The boy looked warily at them from underneath the rim of his hat, seemingly uncomfortable with these impromptu introductions. Stephanie couldn't blame him; it wasn't the most conventional of meetings.

He nodded brusquely towards them, his gaze darting about nervously.

The boy Vir who was currently sandwiched in between them was looking about confused. Stephanie felt a pang of sympathy for him that dissipated when she looked at Slena who was looking at them all with an infuriatingly amused expression.

"What?" Stephanie barked harshly. She didn't normally take an instant disliking to people, Ficen being the exception but Slena was fast becoming the second.

Slena had a look of controlled surprise on her features as she looked at Stephanie.

"I didn't say anything but you should watch where you are going this time," Slena replied tonelessly.

Stephanie stared at her perplexed for a moment until Slena nodded ahead and turning Stephanie saw that they had started moving again and with a new sense of urgency about them as the guards ushered them on impatiently.

Their interviews awaited.

* * *

**So…I'm interested to know what people think of the other tributes so far. I know I have only really given fleeting introductions, I was wary about bombarding you with a list of names and descriptions, I wanted something more natural. But anyways first impressions? Technically a lot of the other outer districts 8-12 I haven't really established them yet as characters, I have a few ideas down but if anyone wanted to throw in any suggestions about them I'm open for ideas.**


	57. Waiting for the Slaughter

**Disclaimer; I don't own the Hunger Games**

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Seven; Waiting for the Slaughter**

Ascending the stairs and passing through the doorway at the top they seemed to have entered into the main part of the building. It seemed that the waiting area had been underground.

There were more Capitol officials bustling about and distantly the roaring and cheering of awaiting crowds could be heard as they walked down the corridor.

Stephanie clutched the silk green material of her dress in her hands raising it off the floor by a good three inches, she didn't care how ridiculous it looked the last thing she needed was to fall flat on her face…again.

They were hurried by a woman who seemed to be checking them off as they went by on a clipboard and then finally they were pushed into an oblong room that had two long low benches against each of the walls.

There was a designated space for each district on the benches as identified by the large white numbers painted on the walls at measured intervals; 6 pairs of tributes on each long bench, odd numbers and even numbers.

At the far end of the room was a metal staircase that led up. The whole room was dark almost pitch black except for the bright fluorescent lights along the floor and benches and beside the numbers. There were no windows and only the one steel door that was closed as soon as they were all in the room, with a heavily armed official standing guard at it.

Clutching Frenkin's hand Stephanie made her way towards the length of bench below the number 3. She felt a return of her nerves and looking around at the faces of the others it seemed that everyone was feeling something similar, even for once Har from District 2 looked a little less bored now.

After a few moments of fidgeting everyone had found their seats and now they all waited in relative silence.

Frenkin looked up at Stephanie, the harsh lights reflecting off his glasses. He licked his lips nervously, "How long will it last?" Frenkin asked.

Stephanie tried to shrug carelessly, "I'm not sure but Isa said that Flickerman is known for helping the tributes if they get stuck," Stephanie tried to sound hopeful but she couldn't help remember Flickerman's words at the end of her video; "I'll get some answers from her."

Stephanie gulped. She felt like a pig on its way to slaughter, the crowd would eat her alive!

Stephanie felt cold beads of sweat begin to formalise on her forehead, her vision becoming slightly blurred. Frenkin's face swam before her for a few disconcerting moments before she was able to force herself to breathe calmly.

The nausea was still there but it had abated to a level that Stephanie could handle.

Frenkin the whole time had held her hands, squeezing them almost to the point where it was painful, but Stephanie was able to concentrate on it until finally Frenkin's hushed reassurances filtered through.

"Are you okay?" Frenkin asked, worry plain on his face.

Stephanie attempted a smile and nodded not yet trusting her voice.

"As long as I can hold off from fainting until after the interview at least," she replied.

Stephanie sat up straighter and on doing so once more caught Slena's gaze who was sitting opposite her but in it there was no silent amusement or cunning but rather curiousity.

Stephanie looked away immediately and glanced down the bench on their side.

Immediately beside them was District 5, Ava sitting beside Frenkin actually; that brought a slight smile to Stephanie's lips as colour once more began to enter her cheeks.

Prall, Ava's district partner was hunched over, his gaze was far off and he seemed to be mumbling; no doubt practicing lines.

Over their heads Stephanie's gaze fell on Astara. She was sitting stoically; her gaze focused on a seemingly insignificant spot on the floor a few steps in front of her.

As if sensing Stephanie's gaze on her, Astara's head snapped up as she turned to Stephanie.

Astara managed a small smile and an acknowledging nod that Stephanie never got to return for suddenly a voice boomed out.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of Panem!" a wave of deafening cheers and shouts responded to the greeting so loud that the very room seemed to tremble, the vibrations sending tremors through Stephanie's body.

It was Flickerman's voice, distinctive and recognisable from the videos. All the eyes in the room were turned upwards towards where the sound seemed to be coming from…above them?

The cheers went on for minutes that seemed to stretch on interminably.

The inhabitants of the room almost gave a collective jump as the until then silent guard at the door began speaking authoritatively.

"When your name is called make your way up the stairs." The simple instruction given the door was opened and the guard left, the door closing with a decidedly resounding thud after him.

There was only one way out now.

There was a lull in the cheering above as Caesar Flickerman began speaking; making a general welcoming speech and getting the crowd riled up for the upcoming interviews "where all would be bared!" Stephanie closed her eyes forcing herself to breathe calmly and remembering what Haymitch told her. She only hoped she would be convincing enough.

Stephanie zoned out for the rest of Flickerman's speech, instead focusing on steadying her breathing.

A few words however crashed through her calm as she heard Flickerman call the first name, "Tarii Simmons from District 1!"

The crowd roared and cheered and made a generally large ruckus that was supposed to be encouraging and welcoming. Stephanie could almost imagine them beating against the guards in a frenzy like a pack of wild animals. Animals that needed to be fed and they were the prey.

Tarii closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply before leaping nimbly to her feet. She literally sprang from the bench as though she couldn't wait to get to her interview and the roaring crowds above.

Stephanie watched with something like amazement as Tarii gracefully ascended the stairs, head held high and her black curls bobbing.

She looked to Stephanie like some incredibly elegant ballerina with her every movement but the more Stephanie saw of Tarii's agility the more Stephanie shuddered in thoughts of how deadly an advantage it could be, she could literally dance circles around her opponents.

"Good luck cuz," Cron yelled at the last moment as only Tarii's glittering heels could be seen before they too disappeared, but she never looked back.

Then a strange thing happened.

For the first few moments Stephanie could hear Flickerman welcome Tarii and hear Tarii's response; high-pitched and girlish.

Then suddenly a high pitched ringing tore through Stephanie's ears. It was like metal screeching, the sound scraped across Stephanie's very skull, reverberating painfully.

Stephanie winced and when she could bear to open her eyes from when she had scrunched them up reflexively she saw that everyone else in the room wore similar grimaces, hands clutching the sides of their heads and looking about wildly.

Stephanie tentatively took her hands from over her ears when she saw a few others do the same. She glanced about her and then it struck her with a cold panic.

Everything was silent. She couldn't hear a thing.

Surprisingly or perhaps not so the first person Stephanie looked towards was straight across from her; Vir. He wore the same confused expression as before but there was a slight hint of a smirk to his lips as he glanced about those around him hands clamped over their ears in agony. He was clearly unaffected by whatever it was.

Stephanie then turned to Frenkin desperately and he to her with wide frightened eyes.

She opened her mouth to speak to him and he to her at the same time and it seemed every other person in the room.

A small cacophony of sound started up in the room.

"Frenkin, can you hear me?"

"Stephanie I can't hear…"

Approximately ten variations of similar frantic conversations sounded around the room between district partners in voices just a little bit high-pitched.

There was a collective sigh of relief from everyone when they realised they hadn't suddenly gone deaf, well all except Vir.

Realisation dawned as it became clear they could hear nothing going on outside the room, most importantly they couldn't hear Tarii's interview.

A silence fell over the room that seemed so much more noticeable with the absence of the roaring crowds in the background.

A slight murmur started up around the room as hushed conversations where had as people waited in nervous anticipation.

The interviews like everything else that year had been elongated.

Stephanie heard a quiet whisper to her left but the words were too indistinct. However when she glanced out of the corner of her eye she saw it was Ava, who was now speaking in muted tones to Frenkin. Prall, Ava's District Partner had resorted back to going over his lines.

Across the way Stephanie could even see Slena attempt to have some sort of conversation with Vir that involved a lot of hand gestures.

The minutes ticked by not that Stephanie had any way of counting them. Time seemed to stretch on unhurried and orderly, in perfect tandem with the Capitol.

Stephanie began to worry that something awful had happened and they would all be left in this room for hours. A taster before the arena.

…

Haymitch sat broodingly, glaring at the amber liquid in his glass as it caught the light.

Flickerman gave his usual antics that got the entire crowd to its feet with a thunderous applause before he called the first tribute out.

She skipped out with a bright smile on her face, exchanging air kisses with Flickerman before taking her seat and her interview started.

During it Haymitch hastily scrawled a few words onto a page titled 'District 1 Girl – Tarii Simmons - 15.'

Haymitch was seated in a secluded box seat that overlooked the whole proceedings below. It was the best seat for his purpose; he could take notes on the tributes discreetly without the constant crowd around him.

Glancing over the edge he could see Isa third row from the front with the rest of the stylists looking up on the stage with admiration.

Haymitch scoffed as he added the words "suck-up" under Tarii's page. He knocked back the liquid in the glass.

The process of this note-taking was annoying and frustrating. It had been years since he had done it.

In the beginning, the first few years of his mentoring even when he had been drowning himself in alcohol he did everything he could for his tributes, which included this irritating note-taking like he was a child in school.

As the years progressed he found he didn't need to take notes anymore. By the Reaping Videos alone he had only to take one look and he could guess everything. He supposed it was just something that came with time. Experience or some other supposedly useful thing like that.

Well experience hadn't helped him any Haymitch thought bitterly pouring himself another drink. But still with surprisingly sharp eyes he watched the interview and dutifully took the notes.

He was going to make sure Stephanie had every possible advantage.

* * *

**Thanks to new follower; Monkey **


End file.
